


Vigilance and Sacrifice

by Reikalady



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 54
Words: 260,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reikalady/pseuds/Reikalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marlana is the last scion of her House and reluctant Grey Warden. But she knows her duty, even if it is getting complicated by her fellow Grey Warden. Somewhat AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Short Career

Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you.  
Her world had become nothing more than pain as an unclean flame raced its way through her blood and bone and flesh. Then it reached heart and mind and everything went black. What should have been welcome unconsciousness was anything but, as her world turned into a nightmare full of shadowy, twisted beings ruled over by some great monstrous thingwhose wings stirred pestilence and death with each great beat. Then it turned blind white eyes that could still see and screamed its hateful welcome. In voiceless terror she fell to her knees, then began to try to scuttle away on all fours because she could not get to her feet and run away the way a still rational human could. When she saw the vanguard of the loathsome horde, a terrible keening made its way out of her throat. Her father and mother, sister by marriage and her nephew, her brother shuffled forward, puppets of some terrible force. But worst of all, Gwendolyn Faolain, her best friend and heart's sister, with her dead babe cradled in her arms. Gwen's once glossy black hair was a matted mess, her face covered by some sort of terrible black lesions and dripping sores. The once bright green eyes now filled with an unclean light. Her dead loved ones reached for her, accusation in their slack faces and a horrible hunger in every movement.  
Finally she did find her voice to scream out her denial of everything in that corrupted place. She managed to get to her feet and somehow her blades were in her hands, the only clean shining presence in that…filth. Even though she was slicing away at her own soul, she fought the corruption even though she knew it would win, would drown her, be her death. If not worse than her death. She would fight it with everything that she was. If Marlana Cousland, possibly the last scion of House Cousland, was anything, it was that she would never bow, never break by any enemy.  
If anything would be her doom, it would be those she loved.  
In silence two warriors watched over the prone body of their new sister. The grim, grizzled warrior whose dark beard was starting to grey for all that he didn't seem to be that old. His much younger companion that was lighter in demeanor and appearance, but still no less a capable fighter, though at the moment there was none of his characteristic laughter as he watched the unconscious woman with the man who was his mentor and adopted father. The slim, almost tiny, figure with long silver-white hair clad in midnight blue leather armor with silver chasings, the big blue eyes closed as she fought whatever terrible dreamscape she found herself in, writhed in a way that made both wonder if she would survive the Joining after all.  
Alistair didn't realize just how much fire there was in the woman-girl, it was that spirit that made her beautiful, though she wasn't unattractive. Her oval face with its high cheekbones, aquiline nose above a generous mouth that was meant for smiling that he hadn't seen much of combined with a delicate yet stubborn chin was what most would call pretty. But it was when those eyes were open and aware and could regard a person seemingly to their soul…  
"Be careful of this one, Alistair", warned the older of the two men.  
Alistair looked up with a faint frown, glad to have his thoughts distracted from the path they were heading down, "What do you mean, Duncan? After seeing her fighting darkspawn in the wilds earlier, I'd hardly call her fragile."  
Duncan shook his head, "Not fragile, but she is volatile. I had to Conscript her to save her life from Howe's forces. And yes, the irony is not lost on me."  
Frowning, Alistair studied the young woman as she began to make the most heartrending keen he'd ever heard out of a living being. Or even a dying one. "Jory mentioned that he was surprised to see Bryce Cousland's youngest as a recruit, but he assumed that she was doing it for the glory of it all. She didn't say otherwise, but I got the impression she never wanted this."  
Sighing tiredly, Duncan nodded, "It's true she didn't. I don't know if you've been told the details, but all the inhabitants of Castle Cousland are dead. Marlana and I only escaped because her parents bought our escape at the cost of their lives. Though in Bryce's case he didn't have very long."  
Horrified Alistair stared at his mentor, "Maker's Breath! You said Howe's forces. As in Arl Rendon Howe of Amaranthine?"  
"Yes, Howe betrayed the man who considered the Arl his best friend. It seems the Blight has brought more than just darkspawn corruption. And it looks like she's waking, we can talk later."  
Pain woke her, a mixed blessing. That she was freed from the seemingly unending nightmare of being the one to slaughter her corrupted kith and kin over and over and over again. That she was alive…she wasn't sure if that was all that welcome. Blearily she blinked open her eyes to see the two warriors peering down at her with concern. Great, she thought, they're obviously wondering if I'm going to live, yet they didn't have the decency to take me off the cold stone floor. She ached in every joint, muscle and tissue in a way she never did before, not even when she accidentally inhaled some deathroot extract vapors. Carefully she managed to sit up, but even that was an effort as her head began to swim and her stomach threatened to empty its contents. It was through sheer stubborn pride that kept her from vomiting. For one thing she figured neither man would appreciate her spew on their feet and for another she really didn't want to taste that poison coming back up.  
To her surprise, Alistair leaned down with a look of sympathy and offered her a hand to get to her feet, which he did so with the utmost courtesy since he could have easily picked her up by the scruff of the neck like a week old kitten. That was even when she wasn't feeling that completely and utterly awful. Even feeling wretched, she still remembered the manners her mother had drilled into her so long ago and quietly thanked him.  
Gravely, Duncan studied the newest Warden who was the only survivor of her Joining, "It is finished. Welcome."  
Alistair was still subdued as if the events just past still bothered him, "I'm glad at least one of you survived the Joining. In mine, only one of us died. But…it was horrible."  
Duncan gently cleared his throat to get her attention, "How do you feel?"  
She rubbed the back of her head, and since she couldn't think of a polite answer decided to address the killing at the brief ritual. That someone in the distant past had come up with that gruesome rite then willingly inflicted it on themselves and on others… "I can't believe you killed Jory."  
Duncan looked saddened, "He was warned, as were you all, that there was no turning back. He forced my hand when he drew his blade and I took no pleasure in ending his life. The Blight requires sacrifices from us all. Fortunately, you're being here means they are not all made in vain."  
Despite her aching skull, Marlana made herself think that over, then reluctantly nodded her head. And instantly regretted the action as her skull pounded with more pain and a thick, greasy nausea threatened to overwhelm her. The newly made Warden decided that Jory was the lucky one.  
Watching her with concern the oldest Warden said gently, "Take some time to recover. When you're ready, I would like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king."  
It took a moment for his words to sink in, "Meeting? What kind of meeting?"  
"The king is going to discuss the strategy for the upcoming battle. Though I'm not sure why he wishes for you to be there."  
"I…see." Though she didn't. Not really.  
"Please attend as soon as you are able to."  
She carefully dipped her head in acknowledgement, using her shoulders more than her neck for the movement. At least that didn't make the aching throb in her head even worse.  
Once the two men were finally out of sight, Marlana went to the side of the ruined temple and noisily lost the contents of her stomach despite her resolution not to. At least she was able to hold it until they gone. It tasted worse coming up than it did going down, but she felt a great deal better. At least the headache had receded enough for her to think a bit better. Already she could feel the difference the Taint in her blood made, such as the pressure of the approaching darkspawn horde. Shivering from everything that had happened she took a careful sip of water to rinse out her mouth. Then a few slow swallows to ease her dry throat and hoped she hadn't screamed out loud the way she did when caught in the poisoned nightmares of the Joining.  
She studied the blood red pendant on the simple silver chain that Alistair had given her as the last part of the ritual. The fact they stored darkspawn blood from the ritual in a pendant served as an interesting insight to the order she was now a member of.  
To remember the ones that didn't survive.  
For the first time, there was something about the Wardens that she could accept without pause and slipped the pendant on. With it, two more names added to the list of her fallen. Jory may have been idiot glory hound, but he still deserved to be remembered for his sacrifice. Daveth on the other hand she did regret his loss. They may have come from very different backgrounds, but the pickpocket had understood what was at stake and had the courage to face the coming darkness.  
Enough brooding she decided. There was work to be done, a great deal of it. Trailed by a large, tawny, four footed shadow she slowly made her way to the war council being held by the king. This wasn't the first time she'd been in such a council; her father had her attend similar sessions since he felt both children should be trained equally. Part of it was in case something should happen to Bryce and Fergus. The other was that if her mother did finally succeed in finding a match, at least one of them would be properly trained to lead in peace and war.  
But to be in such august company…  
Even though she was now fairly disillusioned about said company.  
Cailan was a good man, who clearly meant well, but at the same time had never grown up and made a truly rotten king. When he had met Duncan and Marlana upon their arrival at Ostagar she suddenly understood why her parents were so careful about how they spoke of him. The way he had eyed her made her realize why her father wouldn't bring her to court after Cailan's wedding with Anora. Greatly sobered by that meeting, she wasn't pleased to have the "pleasure" of encountering Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir. Who had apparently heard more of her than either of them cared for. His dismissive attitude towards the loss of her family put her back up. Instead of reacting with hot anger, she used a cool response. In true contrary male fashion, he was amused and dryly advised "Keep up that spirit and spine since both would be greatly needed in the days to come."  
When he asked her to pray that the king be amenable to wisdom, she readily agreed.  
Now she stood before her king and his general at Duncan's side and tried not to feel despair. Loghain had come up with a simple enough plan, but in war you wanted to keep it as simple as possible, especially with someone like Cailan in charge. As the Teyrn laid out the plans for the two parts of the army and the beacon that would be used to alert his troops, Cailan announced, "As for the beacon, the Lady Cousland will take Alistair to the Tower."  
Protests erupted over that announcement as Marlana's dismay increased. Loghain was justifiably incensed over the insult to his men at the tower where the beacon was kept. The mage representative was upset at not being used, clearly he'd been hoping to burn stuff up which of course set off her holiness. Duncan was the only one who remained quiet until the disagreement was settled by an irritated Loghain. Once again she wondered at the relationship between Cailan and Alistair. The fact he called her Lady rather than Warden had been telling to her, but she wasn't sure why. Then called herself a fool since she did know the reason. There'd been word of Fergus or his men, though nothing had been said, she knew. It was likely she was the last living Cousland.  
Not surprisingly Alistair protested being kept out of the fighting when informed of the plan.  
Even though the king had commanded it, Marlana still agreed with Alistair, "I know, Alistair, I didn't agree then and I don't agree now, but the king did command it."  
Duncan nodded, "It is as his majesty commands. Since he wants Grey Wardens to light the beacon, Grey Wardens will do so. And he chose the two of you."  
Alistair sucked in a breath then let it out in an exasperated huff, "I get it, I get it. But just so you know, if he asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line."  
The mental image his words conjured caused Marlana to laugh softly, "I think I'd like to see that."  
He smiled at her, "Well for you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress."  
She grinned back and tried to sober under Duncan's sigh. The two exchanged glances as Duncan reminded them to uphold the honor of the Wardens. All three bid quiet farewells before going their separate ways.  
No longer laughing, the two chose to travel as lightly as possible, taking only the bare necessities along with their arms and armor. Then they were on their way. What had seemed like a quick walk the day before to the female Warden now took an eternity to cross. The span across the gorge separating the two parts of the ruins was now treacherous between the wind and rain from the sudden thunderstorm as well as the hurtling fireballs from the darkspawn catapults. By the time they arrived outside of the tower, Loghain's men were in disarray due to an unexpected incursion of darkspawn. It took longer than it should have to rally the fighters and by the time they'd gotten the men gathered, more than half had been killed.  
Once regrouped, Marlana found herself in charge of a small group consisting of herself, Alistair, one of Loghain's soldiers and oddly enough one of the mages. Oogie of course refused to be separated from his human's side.  
The inside was far worse than any had anticipated, as they battled through packs of the ravening monsters, they found a large pit that lead to tunnels that none wanted to investigate very closely. As they continued to fight their way up the tower, Alistair exclaimed, "Maker's breath! What are these darkspawn doing ahead of the main horde? There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here."  
Marlana rolled her eyes, conscious to make sure he didn't see her expression, "And here you were complaining you wouldn't be allowed to fight."  
"You're right, there is a silver lining to this after all! Anyway, Teyrn Loghain is waiting for us to light that beacon, I'm sure we've missed the signal by now."  
Getting more and more desperate the group fought through the rest of the tower as quickly as possible. Though she still felt ill, Marlana refused to let that slow her down though she knew she'd pay for it later.  
Finally they reached the top of the tower. They expected more darkspawn, but not what they did find. Crouched down feasting the dead bodies of Loghain's soldiers was a massive grey thing with a pair of twisted horns rising above its bestial face. Alistair paled at the sight, "Oh Maker! Ogre!"  
The thing bellowed in rage at the sight of the humans spraying thick spittle, bits of bone and flesh. Even though it was still a distance away, the carrion stench of its breath wafted over the group. Its lowered its head so the wickedly sharp horns were pointing straight out as it visibly braced itself and charged.  
"Don't let it grab you!" Alistair yelled as they scattered out the thing's way. Only the soldier wasn't quick enough and they all got a good chance to see what an ogre could do to a man. Even one in armor. After it crushed him, it ripped a handful of his innards and stuffed them into its mouth as it began to rush towards Alistair.  
Soon Marlana, Alistair and Oogie had worked out a method of getting the ogre to chase after one while the others did what they could to whittle the thing down and the mage stayed at a distance lobbing various unpleasant magical attacks. For all that it didn't wear armor, it had an incredibly tough hide, not to mention far faster than anything that big had a right to be.  
Then it was over. While the mage made sure the corpse of the ogre burned and Marlana kept watch with Oogie, Alistair lit the beacon.  
As the massive flames bloomed, a small sea of darkspawn swarmed up the steps to top of the tower. The mage went down first as a hail of arrows flew through the air striking down the humans.  
Before the darkness consumed her, Marlana's last thought was that she must have had the shortest career of any Grey Warden that survived the Joining.


	2. Patching Up Alistair

"Alistair, stop being a baby and let me look at that wound."  
"I am not being a baby, and I'm fine", the former templar sulked at his pale haired companion and fellow Grey Warden.  
She fluffed the top of her hair with her right hand in exasperation unaware of the spikes she was leaving, it was an oddly endearing look on the normally composed woman, but Alistair was refusing to let himself be distracted, "And you're leaking blood all over the place so no, you're not fine. And it's going to attract attention." Her tone turned coaxing at his rebellious look, "Look, I'll be gentle."  
"Uh huh."  
"Fine, then I'll talk Morrigan into treating you."  
From across the small campsite the dark haired sorceress looked up and gave the two Wardens a hot, golden eyed glare, "I will do no such thing, I've already told that I don't know the healing arts."  
Marlana glanced at the bleeding man out of the corner of her eye and gave him a slightly malicious grin before turning back to the other woman, "You could make it more painful and still leave him functional."  
Both ignored his protest as the sorceress looked thoughtful, ""Tis tempting indeed, but that means touching him. So I'll have to pass on the pleasure."  
She turned her attention back at him, "Fine, I tried to be nice, now I'm going to deal with it my own way."  
Alistair stared at her for a long moment before grumbling, "Fine, fine. I'll let you poke at me. But just so you know, all women really are evil creatures."  
The female Warden simply chuckled as she set out the supplies that would be needed to help patch the stubborn male up. She did take a private moment to appreciate his well muscled form all the while chiding herself for that absurd thought as he carefully shucked off his armor, or tried to as his wounded shoulder wouldn't cooperate. While the man grumbled some more at her assistance it was half hearted at best as she really was as gentle as possible.  
Finally seeing the wound on the back of his shoulder made her suck in her breath in concern and sent her digging her pack for a different set of supplies. With deft gestures she mixed up what looked like a vile concoction until she shook the vial and it turned into an oddly pearlescent color. Now he regarded her warily, he'd never seen her use a poison that looked like that before, but he knew what those vials usually meant.  
"Relax, it's just going to help with the pain. I'm going to have to dig something out of that injury and I'd rather not have to find a way to hold you down while I treat you."  
He was still grumbling under his breath as she slathered the wound with the stuff, at first he jumped from how cold it was then relaxed despite himself as the pain faded. Granted he couldn't feel any part of that shoulder, but the lack of pain was a relief. Not that he would admit it to the demon that was doing something rude to the gaping slash. Trying to ignore the rude probing, he remembered how he'd suffered the injury. As they made their way out of the Korcari Wilds to the town of Lothering where they hoped to get supplies and news, they were beset by a pack of Darkspawn. He hadn't heeded Marlana's warning about a Hurlock maneuvering behind him while she was busy fending off a group of squat Genlocks. He'd managed to twist away, but not before it managed to hack at his shoulder. Now he wondered how badly he was going to get butchered.  
With the utmost concentration the young woman delicately picked out the shards of the Darkspawn blade that had shattered when it hit him. Once she was satisfied that she'd dug out all of the foreign matter, she began to stitch up the gash after washing it out and wondered what her mother would say at the use of the tedious sewing lessons the Teyrna insisted her daughter learn. Once done she tied and cut the thread before putting a pad of cloth to keep his armor from reopening the injury. "I'm sorry, Alistair, this is going to scar, but this is the best I can do. Maybe if we can find a healer at Lothering or the Mage Tower they might be able to do something about it."  
Alistair shrugged his non-wounded shoulder trying not to admit that he did feel a lot better, thought better of the fact and as non-grudgingly as possible said, "Thank you, Marlana."  
When she looked at him in surprise he felt somewhat like a heel as she said, "You're welcome and I'm sorry for threatening to sic Morrigan on you", before she went to wash his blood off her hands. Just as Morrigan started to protest at being used as a threat she tossed off an apology to the other woman who settled down muttering to herself.  
Crouched at the small stream after she finished washing up, Marlana rested her face in her still wet hands. And wondered once again what happened to all the diplomacy her father had taught her, not to mention the leadership skills he taught her. Using her two companions against each other like that… While she may be exhausted and heartsore, she knew Alistair was in the same situation and how she treated him just now was inexcusable. Since he was the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden, it was even more awful.  
That was the rub though, wasn't it? She was a Grey Warden of all of two or three days and she was the one saddled with the task of rallying the forces to replace the one lost at Ostagar to Loghain's treachery. Not only was Alistair a Warden longer, granted it was only six months, but that was six months longer than she, he was also at least five years older. Maker's breath! She'd only just reached her age of majority just a month before this nightmare began and now this.  
A Grey Warden. She never wanted that, it was going to be trial enough to run Highever in her father's absence. But now her family was dead, including her brother, her House all gone save for her. Tears slowly slipped down her cheeks, her father had said he knew she would continue the family name if the worst came to pass, but this was so much worse than even her father had anticipated. A Warden couldn't inherit lands and titles, but there were no other Couslands left, the treacherous bastard Howe had seen to that. Yet the duty as a Warden outweighed her duty as a Cousland. If she survived the Blight then she would let herself consider retaking her family lands. And screw the Wardens if they didn't understand her duty to Highever.  
Yet making matters even worse was the betrayal of Loghain Mac Tir at the battle that had occurred the day before. To have gone through the horrors of the Tower to get to the beacon to signal the Teyrn's forces, only to have one of the country's greatest heroes abandoned his king and the king's forces on the field of battle. Not just his king, but the son of his best friend and husband of his daughter.  
Now it was up to her to use the treaties Duncan had sent them to retrieve only two days before since Alistair flat out refused to take up the burden of leadership. Seeing a grown man panic like that had soured her opinion on him, but she tried to give him some slack considering the loss he just suffered. "Oh papa", she whispered in despair using a title she hadn't used in years for her father, "If ever I needed your good advice, it's now. But you're not here because I failed you when you needed me the most. So I'll try to remember everything you told F-Fergus and me. I'll try to make up my failure at our home. I-I hope you don't hate me too much wherever you are."  
Despite her determination not to let her heartache get the better of her, the tears continued to pour down. During her flight from her home with Duncan, the elder warden had repeatedly told her that there was no shame in grief, as long as you continued ever onwards. Yet she did feel shame at what she perceived to be weakness, now was not the time to indulge in weak emotions.  
And now she had a bitchy apostate mage as an ally in addition to everything else.  
Granted the woman was clearly skilled with combative magics and her knowledge of the wilds were useful, but she wondered why Morrigan really was accompanying the Wardens. Not that she was going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, if only because she'd probably bite, but she didn't think the sorceress was doing this just to help end the Blight. And definitely not out of the goodness of her heart. Or even that her mother had told her to go. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the concept that Morrigan's mother was Flemeth.  
Supposedly the Flemeth of the old tales. There was one tale she knew particularly well.  
The lord all the stories told of that caused Flemeth to become the terrible force she supposedly was had been the lord of Highever. Then a minor bann, but when Connobar was slain by Flemeth, Sarim Cousland had taken over castle and lands. By all accounts Sarim had been considered a major improvement over the late and unlamented Connobar. That had been over 400 years though, if this was the same Flemeth… She didn't want to think about that.  
Or why Flemeth had saved her and Alistair from the Tower when they were overwhelmed by Darkspawn. Supposedly "plucked" out of the tower by Flemeth in the form of a giant bird or so said Morrigan, whether that was true or not, the fact remained that they were indeed alive. As well as healed of their terrible wounds by the same person who "plucked" them. If the old woman really was the Flemeth of legends, and if any of the legends were true, Marlana wondered at the irony of the woman saving Sarim's descendant.  
Shaking off the thoughts of old legends, her mind turned to the present and her troublesome companions. Predictably Morrigan and Alistair got on as well as oil and water which only added to her burdens. At first she couldn't understand why they both looked to her to lead, but she couldn't imagine either one listening to the other. So she was a "safe" third party. Lucky her.  
Hearing the crump of booted feet approaching her, Marlana hastily splashed her face with water to dash away the tears. Alistair studied her for a moment, noting the slightly reddened eyes, but decided to err on the side of caution and not remark on the fact. With forced cheer he said, "Just making sure you didn't get eaten by some awful beastie."  
Somewhat dryly she responded, "I should be so lucky."  
The former templar paused, not sure how to answer her and wondered if she was being sarcastic or serious. Before he could say something, she rose to her feet as Oogie came crashing through the underbrush wanting to see what was going on. The former noblewoman absently patted the massive animal's shoulder before returning to camp. Without thinking about it, she ordered Morrigan to first watch, Alistair to third and she would take second before she curled up on her bedroll near the fire with her dog at her back.  
Apostate and templar stared at her in astonishment then complied deciding not to argue. Particularly after seeing how she had killed one of the Darkspawn emissaries by first lopping of a hand so it couldn't spellcast anymore then took it's head off with a back handed swipe of her sword. Her attack had been brutally fast and neither wanted to see what Marlana was capable of when truly angry. So they settled down for the night and wondered what Lothering would bring on the morrow.


	3. Lothering Aftermath

Andraste's flaming sword, they were arguing. Again. Marlana paused at the edge of the campsite with the two buckets of water she was hauling back to camp to listen. She didn't really care about what they were fighting about, but she could hear three voices, two soprano and one baritone. Great, Leliana was getting into the daily snap and snarl now too. Having Oogie give her a reproachful look before slinking off didn't help matters any. Fuming she stalked into camp where the three supposed adults were arguing. For all that she was just barely eighteen years of age there were days it felt like she was the only adult around.  
Before the three could react, she pitched one bucket of water then the second right behind it, soaking all three of them thoroughly. As they sputtered she put her hands on her hips and snarled, "That. Is. Quite. Enough. You are all adults, or supposedly so. I expect you to act like it. I do not expect you to be best friends, or even to like each other. But by all that is holy, I expect you to act like adults! I expect you to work together. If you can't, I kindly invite you to go somewhere else."  
Feeling eyes staring at her back, she snapped at the bronze skinned giant over her shoulder, not entirely taking her attention off the other three, "Yes?"  
His odd purple eyes met her blazing blue and obviously decided that silence was the better part of valor. She nodded sharply, the long braid she'd twisted her mane into bobbed along with the movement. Then her head whipped around back around to her original targets, "Do I make myself clear?"  
They muttered something at her and went their separate ways, but showed no signs of leaving. Still angry she grabbed the buckets and stomped back to the stream to refill them. The two newcomers that joined her happy little band of outcasts certainly made things even more interesting. Not that she needed more interesting things in her life. She was still convinced that Leliana, a lay sister of the Chantry, was still one Archdemon short of a Blight. That the woman got involved with whatever Morrigan and Alistair were sniping at each other about again just proved she wasn't all that bright.  
As for the giant, she still wasn't sure what to make of him. She'd heard only vague rumors of the Qunari, but of all her current allies he seemed to be the smartest. At least he didn't argue all of the time. Yet, she thought blackly. She was sure that something would set him going with the others soon enough. That seemed to be the way things were going. Marlana was still bemused at the fact they were following her lead since she wasn't exactly the most inspiring leader.  
Once at the stream she stared down at it tiredly. It'd only a couple of weeks since that disaster at Ostagar and it seemed like she was always tired. Oh, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. Well, maybe partly physically, she wasn't used to sleeping in the rough so much, but she was learning to deal. But the burden that had been laid upon her, she wanted to give it to someone else, tell everyone that she couldn't do it, let someone else pay the price this time. But she couldn't do it, because who else was willing to do it? They all looked to her and she saw something in their eyes. They didn't see the young woman who was in over her head, they all saw the Grey Warden who stepped up to the line and refused to back down.  
Or so said Leliana. Damn minstrels. Damn her Cousland blood for making her responsible for things that weren't any business of hers if she were a sane woman.  
Marlana rubbed her forehead. The time at Lothering hadn't gone well at all. They'd found out that as Grey Wardens, Alistair and she were wanted as traitors to the crown. In fact a group of Loghain's men had been loitering in the inn waiting for her. There was one part she couldn't understand. They were completely uninterested in Alistair as another Grey Warden, that they wanted to capture her alive and kill her companions. Which meant Howe wanted her for something since it'd become clear in the rumors that he and Loghain were political bed partners. The thought sickened her. And now she understood why her brother had been sent off to scout even though he was not suited for such things.  
It was there that she added on her two newest companions, one of whom was a murderer and not even human. But she'd seen in his strange face that he truly regretted it in his own fashion so offered him the chance of redemption by fighting against the Blight. For the first time Morrigan and Alistair had actually agreed on something. She wondered if that meant she'd used up all of her miracles, and if she had it was a singular waste.  
However it had taken quite a bit of persuasion on Alistair's part to get her to accept Leliana. Oh the woman had skill in battle, but that she decided to help the Wardens was prompted by a vision, one supposedly from the Maker…  
Marlana sighed, what else was going to end up trailing after her offering their "help".  
Other than that, Lothering had been a complete waste. With all the refugees in a town abandoned by their bann, it'd been like an overturned ant's nest. They'd done some work for the Chantry much to Morrigan's chagrin, but the young woman had to do something for those poor folk. It was likely there'd be more bandits, but perhaps she bought the people some time to organize to leave the area. She hated leaving them like that, but her duties as a Warden were more pressing and if she didn't attend to them, more would suffer.  
"Is she like that all the time, Alistair?" Leliana asked quietly after watching the silver maned woman walk off like she was going to kill anything stupid enough to get in her way.  
He blinked at the red-headed minstrel blankly "Huh? Who? Marlana?"  
The lay sister nodded, the single braid in her hair swinging gently.  
"Oh, well, no. Usually she just sighs at us or makes a smart remark. I have to remember the bucket of water in the future, that was pretty slick." He said grinning.  
Leliana stared at him, "You think that was funny?"  
"Yeah, I do. She certainly got her point across without hitting any of us. Believe me, you don't want her hitting you. Or patching you up. It was really worth it watching Morrigan be speechless for once."  
"You are a strange man, Alistair."  
"Funny, everyone says that." He frowned a bit, "Well, maybe not everyone."  
An expressive eyebrow raised, "Oh? Do tell?"  
For some unaccountable reason he flushed slightly, "It's nothing."  
"Uh huh."  
"Really, it's not. Oh! Is that a griffon I see? Oh, no, just a cloud. Pity, it'd be nice to not have to walk everywhere."  
The Orlesian woman just shook her head in silence, clearly at a loss for words. Alistair grinned a bit to himself, she wasn't the first person he'd done that to.  
Fortunately when she returned to camp, things were quiet. Careful to avoid catching anyone's attention, she simply settled the buckets down before digging out some of the travel rations to gnaw on while working on her journal. Well, her "official" journal, the one she was keeping in case something happened to her. In it she laid out her rudimentary plans, the information they'd gathered thus far and her reasoning behind what she was doing. She kept her own private journal to vent at the end of the day, and her thoughts of all that she had been through. She only updated that when alone.  
Just as she finished her current entry, Leliana brought out her lute as was typical for the end of the day before everyone went to their rest or to their watch. At first it had been annoying, but as of late Marlana had been grateful for the distraction the music and tale telling brought. But apparently Leliana had other thoughts this night as she tuned the instrument but didn't start playing right away.  
"Tell me Marlana, do you know of any songs or tales you wish to share? You have a pleasant enough speaking voice and your singing voice isn't too irritating upon the ear."  
As the bard began asking her questions, the young noblewoman shook her head, "You really don't want me to try to entertain anyone, Leliana, it's not going to be pretty."  
Wondering if her little group had come up with this plan to torment her, she realized Alistair was regarding her hopefully, Sten with a hint of curiosity and even Morrigan was watching her thoughtfully. "Fine, don't say I didn't warn you."  
Closing her eyes so she couldn't see the others, even though she still felt them watching her, she sang of the price of commanding in a rich alto, almost tenor, voice. Until now she hadn't fully understood the song, though she'd always could get the general meaning. Dealing with her fractious companions, knowing that every time she went into battle with them she may be leading them to their deaths. Knowing that if they were successful with the treaties she'd be ordering even more people to their deaths… That understanding gave her performance a poignancy it otherwise wouldn't have had.  
When she finished, she bowed her head slightly then walked away without meeting anyone's gaze. She had revealed far more than she meant to with that song. In the darkness outside of the light of the fire, Marlana sagged against a tree. In the distance she could Leliana starting another song, one not as somber, but still a quiet one so as to not shatter the mood.  
A faint rattle of armor betrayed Alistair's presence before he came near enough to talk. "And you wondered why I didn't want to lead."  
She crossed her arms across her chest, but didn't look up at him, "I never wondered." And trying hard to not resent you for it.  
The wince he must have made could be heard in his voice, "Fair enough." He coughed slightly, "I, ah, did want to know what you wanted to talk about the other night."  
As had become a habit of hers, Marlana had taken to talking to her allies individually or together, to get to know them, and also in the hopes of getting them to know each other. Alistair had proven to be particularly difficult about that, so she had given up after getting shrugged off several times. Now he wants to talk, she thought, typical male. And as awkwardly as possible, typical Alistair. The later thought was more amused then scornful.  
"Nothing important", despite herself she could hear the tired resignation in her voice. Maybe she should let one of the others take the middle watch so she could get a solid night's sleep, maybe then she could keep her mask in place better.  
"Maybe you should let me be the judge of that?"  
Not sure how to interpret his tone, she finally looked up, but couldn't see his expression clearly in the shadows. Shrugging slightly, "I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk. About Duncan."  
"Oh." There was so much emotion in that one small syllable. His voice turned brisk, "You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did."  
"I know he was important to you and while I didn't know him for very long, it doesn't mean I don't mourn his death."  
She shifted slightly so she could see him better as she spoke, to see the sorrow that passed across his face as he spoke, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost it like that. Duncan did warn me that any of us could fall in battle. And with so much riding on us what with the Blight and all. I, I'd like a proper funeral for him once this is all over. If we're still alive. I don't think he had any family."  
She spoke softly, "He had you."  
Alistair looked away, "I guess he did. It sounds stupid, but I wish I had been there with him. At the battle. I feel like I abandoned him."  
Her heart ached, he couldn't have used harder words than that. This time it was her turn to look away, "It's not stupid at all. I understand." Better than you know, Alistair. You didn't fail your entire family or your best friend.  
"Of course, I'd be dead then and that wouldn't have made him any happier. He came from Highever, or so he said. Maybe I'll go there sometime, see about putting something up in his honor. I don't know."  
She still couldn't look up at him. Highever. It'd been her home once not so long ago, her responsibility. But now it was… Her mind shied away from that pain.  
He continued on, oblivious to her internal struggle, "Have you…had someone close to you die? I don't mean to pry…"  
Her shoulders sagged, he didn't know. Either Duncan hadn't told him, or it didn't register to be important enough for him to remember. Feeling raw she regretted ever saying anything. "I've lost enough to know what you're going through."  
"Yes, I… imagine you really have, haven't you?" The sympathy in his voice was more like salt in a wound than balm. "Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little."  
To her surprise she found herself offering to go to Highever with him if he ever went there. And that she truly meant it. He smiled a little, "I would like that. And I think maybe Duncan would have also."  
He hesitated, "Is there anything you want to talk about? It seems you're always taking everyone else's burdens, but no one else seems to be doing the same for you."  
Unable to speak for the moment, she slowly shook her head. How could she explain to him that while she resented the duties and burdens of being a Grey Warden she was grateful for them because the weight of them crushed her own pain and sorrow into a dark corner of her soul.  
"Just remember, if you ever do need to talk, let me know. I know I haven't made a good showing of myself, but I want you to know you aren't alone in this."  
The words were a struggle to get out, but she had to say them. Because what he said did matter to her, "Thank you, Alistair."  
"Anytime. My friend."


	4. The Tower and The Rose

"Get away from him, you bitch!" Marlana snarled as she slammed into the woman that Alistair had been talking to.  
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" He yelled. "That's my sister!" Wondering when and how she'd gotten into his sister's home without anyone knowing, the templar paused trying to figure out how to handle this without anyone getting killed. Not wanting to hurt Marlana, he tried to interpose himself between the two women, but doubled over in agony when he got kneed in the groin by one of them as they tumbled furiously in unarmed combat.  
Were it any other women, he'd be seriously flattered that they were fighting over him.  
Once he got over the agony of his bruised manhood of course.  
But as it was, one of those women was his sister while the other… Well the other was a  
sister in a different sense. Or he was going to keep telling himself that until he believed it.  
Then Marlana managed to knock Goldanna down on her ass and drew her blades.  
When he saw the desire demon stand up where his sister had fallen, its furious red eyes fixed on Marlana, all pain was forgotten under the wave of sickened horror that swept over him. Then Goldanna's supposed children shifted into undead things and started to swarm the slight woman, he drew sword and shield as he waded in to save his friend. He got to her just in time to put his more heavily armored form between her and their weapons. Since she'd made short work of the demon, it didn't take long for the two of them to finish up the rest as they automatically fell into established fighting patterns.  
Staring at the wreckage, he realized that something seemed…off about the place. As if the edges were a little blurred and his head felt heavy as if just recovered from a long illness.  
"Name of the Maker, Marlana. What's going on? Why did I think that…thing was my sister?" There were equal parts of disgust and panic in his tone and voice.  
She grimly sheathed her swords and decided now was not the time to ask about this sister, "You do remember the Tower, right? Where we were having a fine time cleaning out the place of demons, abominations and Maker knows what else?"  
He scrunched up his face as he tried to remember what she was talking about. "Yeeees. I do. Now. But this doesn't look like the tower…"  
"Because we're in the Fade, we got trapped by a sloth demon."  
"A sloth…" Suddenly his form began to shimmer and blur, "Hey! Wait! Where are you going?" Then he was gone. She sincerely hoped it meant she freed him and that she didn't have to go drag his sorry butt out of some other section of the demon's domain. Pinching the bridge of her nose she turned to the odd rune-covered pedestal which was the only solid looking thing in the place. Even though she'd used such things several times before since she'd been trapped in this series of nightmares, she was still a little nervous about using such things.  
Magic wasn't for the likes of her, oh she had no problem using enchanted arms and armor, such things just were, they didn't react any differently to her touch than those that weren't enchanted. But the pedestal, she could feel it react to her, feel the swirl of power around her mind and soul. And she really, really disliked the slithering feeling in her mind as the magical map of the place rose up behind her eyes.  
Wanting to be done with the thing, she chose the next location. A sickening sideways shift and she was in a…Chantry? Frowning she studied the surroundings, it was indeed a Chantry, if one as insubstantial as mist with flowing, wavering walls. Not just any Chantry, either. The one in Lothering where Leliana had spent the last few years of her life. Cautiously, Marlana quietly crept down the aisle between the pews, there was no one that she could see, but she felt…something. Because it was the Fade she wasn't surprised when it seemed to take a long time to get up to the altar. There was Leliana deep in prayer, beside her stood what appeared to be a revered mother. But not the one she remembered from Lothering.  
Another demon.  
She figured this one was going to require some sort of tact on her part since she and the bard didn't know each other as well as she did her fellow Grey Warden. Of course, Marlana was still somewhat flustered over her reaction to the demon that had imprisoned Alistair. What had fueled her sudden fear and rage wasn't a sisterly sort of feeling. But she decided she would think about that later, when she didn't have a demon deciding to eat her or not.  
"Thank the Maker, you're all right, Leliana."  
The bard frowned at her in confusion, "I'm sorry, have we met?"  
Marlana's stomach sank in fear, they'd managed to suppress or wipe out Leliana's memory.  
The fake cleric frowned at her and spoke in a rusty voice, "Do not disturb the child, for she needs peace and quiet."  
"Leliana, don't you remember me? I'm Marlana, the Grey Warden you chose to help?"  
Was that a glimmer of memory in those pale eyes?  
"Don't you remember the dream that you told me about? The one about the Blight?"  
The demon began to shift uncomfortably, tried to redirect Leliana with the supposed peace of this place. Privately the Warden thought it felt more like the peace of the grave than a refuge, but she knew she wasn't seeing what Leliana was. Or maybe Leliana was finally starting to wake up as she clearly began to struggle with the situation.  
Either way, the demon chose to shed its illusion as it attacked Marlana, the two women made short work of it. The Warden didn't have a chance to explain the situation before Leliana disappeared the way Alistair did before her. She knew when the damn pedestal appeared, she could feel it. What was being in this place for so long doing to her? There'd been wells of energy she'd encountered that left her feeling different afterwards, faster, stronger, more alert. Was she still herself? Or was the demon slowly changing her, slowly getting into her mind?  
Irritated at herself, she stalked over to the pedestal to free her last companion.  
She surveyed the most recent "island" of the Fade and groaned. A combination of graveyard and battlefield. Cute. It seemed so much more false than the previous two domains. Had her actions weakened the beast who ruled this area? Or was Wynne just that gullible? The elderly mage still seemed fairly sharp, but this was like out of some silly childhood ghost story.  
Tired and just done with the whole ridiculous situation, she forsake her usual quiet gliding through shadows and just stomped her way to where she thought she saw a figure. The corner of her mouth crooked up in a wry grin, apparently she'd been spending too much time around Sten and Alistair if she was giving up on the subtle option.  
Seeing the bodies of slain children on the ground gave her pause, as did Wynne's evident grief. Marlana tried the gentle path, but as the mage continued to be morose, gave the woman a good shake. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to shock her into back into more clearheaded thought. As she finally got through to the healer, the demons masquerading as the dead children helped her by standing up and begging for Wynne to stay.  
Like the other two, Wynne quickly disappeared after the demons were destroyed, even faster than Leliana.  
Grinding her teeth against the awful sensation of all the domains of her captor shifting and locking into place, Marlana used the pedestal to finally force the issue.  
The new battlefield was an open plain with little dips and crevasses, nothing as detailed or convoluted as the previous places had been. A feral smile barred her teeth. Good, she had weakened the thing. And there it was, sitting out in the open waiting for her. It was time to finally finish this. Either to destroy the thing to truly free all the trapped souls, or die in the process, her soul finally freed from its pain. She didn't aspire to the Maker's side as most of the faithful did, unlike most, oblivion sounded the sweetest reward so she wouldn't have to face the dead spirits of her loved ones. She hoped she'd freed Alistair enough so that there would be at least one Warden to stop the Blight. And she firmly told herself it was that and not any other reason.  
She stalked up to the demon, who offered to make her much happier. Rather than give it a verbal response, she hauled off and slugged it. At its bellow of shock and rage, she felt the "island" shift and more presences appeared as she drew her swords to battle the very angry demon. Too angry to feel despair, she knew her companions had been drawn here, but figured she could deal with them later. Fortunately, they either recognized her, or recognized the demon for what it was since they quickly joined in the fray.  
Though Alistair did everything he could to try to get the demon's attention focused on him so that they could use their usual tactics, nothing worked. Instead it continued to rain attacks down upon Marlana who simply continued to slam back into the thing. Her blades flashing faster than they had before, almost inhumanly so, yet they still moved with all the customary grace of their wielder. Form after form the demon assumed, but still it battled its primary foe who would not back down.  
As the last of its power bled away, it gasped out, "What manner of creature are you, mortal?"  
As her blades slammed down into its center, draining the last dregs of its strength, she spoke coldly, "A Grey Warden."  
They woke stiff and sore upon the cold stone floor of the Tower where the demon had ambushed them. After assuring herself that the other three would be fine, the silver-haired woman walked over to the corpse of the man clad in robes. With tender fingers, she closed his eyes while whispering a benediction, "Farewell Niall, chance met friend, may you find peace in the Maker's embrace." Then she scooped up the ancient scroll that had fallen by the dead mage and handed it to Wynne. Who studied it for a moment and nodded, "Yes, it is simple enough to use, even for one who isn't a mage. I think it be best for you, Alistair or Leliana to use it because if I am in the middle of a spell I won't be able to use the activation phrase."  
Both the templar and bard just stared at their leader who threw up her hands, "Fine, fine. I'll use it." At least Wynne was right about her being able to use it, so she rolled the scroll back up and shoved it into her belt. Being back into the "real" world made Marlana feel more herself, though she found herself rather uncomfortably aware of how close Alistair was as he took up her right flank the way he always did. And it wasn't even exceptionally close, he was at his usual distance, close enough to shield her if necessary, but far enough to let her still be able to maneuver.  
Not for the first time she wondered, why was he so protective of her? Oh, he went to help any of their other allies if they were in trouble, but she always seemed to be the first one he thought of. Silly girl, she mocked herself, you're the only other Grey Warden that's in Ferelden, of course he's going to protect you. It's out of memory for Duncan, not because of what be there between the two of you.  
Feeling eyes on her, she shifted her glance in that direction to see Alistair studying her thoughtfully with his warm, golden brown eyes. He flushed a bit for some reason and looked away. Neither noticed the way Wynne and Leliana studied them, then exchanged glances, though Leliana was amused, Wynne was a bit more concerned.  
What they found in the next room they did not expect at all. A small pack? Herd? Clutch? Of dragonlings. Hungry dragonlings. They were quick to dispatch, but it was clear they'd been confined in that room for some time as evidenced by some rather fragrant piles. One of which the slightly oblivious warrior was about to step in, and as Marlana started to yell out a warning, he did. And proceeded to slide in it, right into and on top of the much smaller woman next to him. She wasn't sure which was worse. The feel of being smothered by metal or the stench of what her friend had just stepped in. Panic at being pinned down had almost overcome her good sense when Alistair finally managed to lever himself up and off without hurting her any more than she already was.  
Like a true gentleman, he offered her the hand that wasn't covered in muck to help her to her feet like he did in Ostagar. Only it was different, other than the dragon shit, it was his attitude as he helped her stand, the not quite goofy grin he gave her or the way his hand had lingered on hers for just the briefest moment. Unsettled, Marlana gave him a shy smile before making a slight production of making sure she hadn't lost anything, especially the Litany they needed so desperately against Uldred's pet bloodmages.  
Thankfully for everyone's sense of smell and what little dignity Alistair still possessed, they found a ready supply of water to wash the muck off his armor. They were still laughing about it when they encountered the templar held captive behind a glowing wall of energy. They'd all tried being understanding to the man, but he just kept getting more and more hysterical as they tried to talk to him. Exhausted, at the end of her short supply of patience, Marlana rubbed her temples then announced she was going up to deal with the bloodmages with or without the others. She refused to acknowledge Cullen's shrill demands that she slaughter them all. Privately she wondered if the man hadn't been affected by the rogue mages after all.  
What they came in to was the worst thing they'd seen thus far in the Tower. A mage, screaming in pain and terror, held by brilliant bands of lightning wielded by a pair of abominations standing before a slight, bald man with sharp features who looked more like a clerk than bloodmage. Marlana couldn't hear what the one mage was saying to the one being tortured, but she wasn't going to wait. Swiftly she drew her weapons and began to run towards the horrific tableau, shouting out the command to activate the Litany. But she was too late.  
Sickened she watched as the captive's flesh twisted, then flowed in ways flesh should never move, with strange bulges appearing as the mage was taken over by a demon and turned into an abomination. But she didn't stop until she slammed into a wall of force, which didn't last long when Alistair made a strange gesture with his sword hand and a blazing circle of light swept out from around him purging the area of unfriendly spells. Determined not to let them corrupt any more mages, she went for the weasely little clerk figuring him to be Uldred from Wynne's description. He laughed mockingly at her as his form shifted and twisted.  
It was massive, and ugly, and for a brief moment she thought someone had taken an ogre magnified its size three fold then painted it in garish colors. She directed Leliana to take out the abominations furthest from their location while she went after the closest one. Alistair had already engaged the beast while Wynne began frantically casting everything from protective spells to the odd bolt of magic. It was a long brutal fight with a thing that used magic as easily as its massive claws and horns. But in the end it was indeed the Litany that saved them from the worst of the demon's powers.  
The next few hours went by in an exhausted haze for Marlana as decisions were made and ancient pacts renewed. Apparently while most of her consciousness went elsewhere, she kept herself together to still do what she needed to as she made arrangements for much needed supplies. And best of all enough horses to mount her entire group, including a steed massive enough to carry Sten easily. Hoping that she didn't offend Irving, First Enchanter and leader of the Circle, nor Knight-Commander Greigor, she opted to return across the lake to the inn at the docks for a much needed rest.  
Before she could sleep, she desperately needed to eat. She could live with the nightmares that came from being a Grey Warden, in fact when those were her only nightmares she actually got some decent rest, unlike the nights when she dreamed of her family. She could live with the fact she only had thirty years at the most. Being able to sense the Darkspawn and not being affected by their disease were probably the only useful things she could think of being a Grey Warden, though supposedly they had other powers. Not that even Alistair knew what they were. But the fact that galled her the most about being a Warden was the amount of food she needed to consume.  
The rest of their party had already retired by the time the two Wardens had finally sated their empty stomachs. Debating if she had the energy to haul herself to her room or if she could just sleep right where she sat, Marlana watched with bemused eyes as Alistair fiddled with his mug of ale. He sighed, "Look about earlier –"  
"I'm really sorry I didn't warn you sooner about the dragon muck."  
His generous laugh gave her a fluttering sensation in her abdomen, "No, no, I'm not mad about it at all. If only you could've seen your face when I skidded into you, absolutely priceless."  
She couldn't help but quietly chuckle with him. Then he sobered, "It's when we were in the Fade and you got me away from that demon…" Alistair took a gulp from his mug before continuing, "I." He hesitated as if about to say something, then changed his mind, "I hope you won't say anything about how easily fooled I was."  
Marlana couldn't help but frown in confusion at him. "You, Wynne and Leliana were all taken in equally. Besides, I thought you knew me better than that. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I'd like to think we're at least friends. And friends don't do that to each other."  
His expression brightened, "Oh, we are. It's just…" She waited patiently sipping her wine and wondering what was going on in that complicated male mind as his expression changed and closed. Oh, she knew their assorted friends and companions would laugh at hearing the word complicated to describe the warrior that was sitting before her, but there were depths and sides to his personality that… intrigued her.  
Finally, he shook his head in frustration before reaching into a pouch on his belt and held out a deep red rose in the palm of his hand. "Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?"  
She stared stupidly at him for a moment, wondering if she was still caught in that demon's trap, or she'd fallen asleep in her chair after all, "Is that a trick question?"  
He grinned, "Yes, absolutely. I'm trying to trick you. Is it working? Aw, I just about had you, didn't I?"  
"Oh yes. You're a wily one."  
His voice deepened, "Nefarious even. Muahahaha", he ruined that evil laugh with a faint cough causing her to smile and for the first time he saw the faintest hint of a dimple in her cheek.  
Alistair continued on, "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The Darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since."  
She considered the flower in his hand and figured he must have had some sort of preservation enchantment placed on that pouch considering the flower was in near perfect condition. "That's a nice sentiment."  
"I thought that I might… give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."  
Despite herself, Marlana could feel herself blushing at the compliment. Oh, she'd been complimented on her looks in the past, but never in such a sweet manner, "Thank you, Alistair. That's a lovely thought."  
The warrior's expression saddened, "I'm glad you like it. I was just thinking… here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy. I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this… darkness."  
As he finished speaking, he held the rose by its stem out to Marlana who could feel her cheeks turning bright red even as she slowly reached out to take the flower from him. Just as her fingers started to curl around it, he lightly touched her hand with his empty one, holding her hand between both of his for just a moment. Speechless she smiled up at him, brilliant blue eyes sparkling as they gazed into his and he could feel her pulse speed just a little in her wrist.  
Smiling warmly back, he let her hand go, but slowly and a little reluctantly.  
"I'm glad you like it." His hands made a nervous, twisting gesture, "Now if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."  
She laughed and decided to play along, wondering how badly she could make him blush, "Sounds good. Off with the armor, then!"  
He laughed, "Bluff Called! Damn! She saw right through me!" Then more nervously, "I'll be… in my room. Until the blushing stops. Just be, uh, safe. You know how it is."  
Marlana couldn't help grinning at his hasty retreat and bid his back a good night. Then the smile faded as she looked down at the rose and carefully stroked one velvet soft petal with a fingertip and wondered.


	5. Roadside Adventures

"I can't believe you're going to take the assassin with us!" Alistair was clearly unhappy with her decision to spare the life of the elf that was on the ground before them and to access his oath of service. Did she trust him? No, not really, or at least not as far as she could throw Sten in full armor, which was not very. But she was tired of all the killing, especially after the bloodbath in the Tower. Or even the slaughter done here, of which she had done more than her fair share. There was something about the dejected way the Crow held himself. Of course it could all be an act, but her instincts told her that he really was looking for redemption.  
Tiredly, "If you want to kill him, go ahead Alistair."  
He sputtered for a moment, then sighed, "All right, I see your point. But if anything proves that we're desperate, this would be it."  
She offered the elf, Zevran, a hand up, accepting his oath, "Just don't make me regret it. Or rather, make you regret it."  
Without a backwards glance, she whistled to Oogie who was investigating something disgusting as she returned to where they'd picketed the horses before getting lured into the ambush. She suspected something was up with the lay of the land, it was a really good spot to spring one, not to mention the convenience of a woman who "happened" to be fleeing at just the right moment. The pale haired woman played along knowing that her little group were more than capable of dealing with any trouble. She hadn't expected the assassin to turn belly up the way he did, and she almost did kill him for the "deadly sex goddess" comment. Just the fact she was ready to kill someone for an off hand comment scared her.  
Before slinging herself up in her saddle, she leaned her head against her mount's side, Dear Maker I'm so tired of all this and such a long road to go, she thought. Seeing the others coming up the road, she swung up and into her saddle.  
That night when all she wanted to do was crawl into her bedroll to get some sleep before her watch, she found herself having a heart to heart chat with a distressed Morrigan. She'd leaned against a nearby tree watching the other woman pace back and forth as she slowly worked her way to what she wanted to see Marlana about. Absently she glanced over at the main fire and almost smiled despite herself. Zevran was already working his smarmy charm on Leliana, while Sten was contemplating a small portrait and Wynne and Alistair seemed to be having a heart to heart chat. She returned her attention to Morrigan when the sorceress finally settled down enough to talk.  
"I have been reading mother's grimoire, the one you found in the Tower." If Morrigan had been anyone else, Marlana would've made her a hot cup of tea and give the other woman a hug, but it was Morrigan so all she could do was lend an ear.  
"It's not what you were expecting."  
"No, it is not. I had hoped for a collection of spells, but what I found…" The woman's normally haughty expression looked closer to fear than anything else.  
"You look disturbed."  
"Yes, disturbed is a good word. I found out how Flemeth has extended her unnaturally long life."  
Hoping to break the tension, Marlana attempted to joke, "What? She eats babies? Bathes in the blood of virgins?"  
Instead of laughing, Morrigan looked even more upset, "You… are not too far off. I know I told you about Flemeth's story, at least how she tells it. I'm sure you've heard the tales of her daughters, the many Witches of the Wild?"  
Feeling chilled, the Warden nodded in silence.  
"As have I, yet I have never met one of my sisters. That is because… They are all Flemeth."  
"What? How can that be, Morrigan?"  
Morrigan began pacing again, "When she grows old and wizened, she gets another daughter, raises and trains her. Then when the girl is ready, Flemeth takes over her body."  
"Maker's breath."  
"In this tome she details the training her daughters have gone through. I recognize it all, this is all that she has taught me. I was to be her next…host."  
Closing her eyes and leaning her head against the tree, her own problems forgotten for the moment, "There's no way to stop this?"  
"Only by killing her and getting her real grimoire, it would have the knowledge I need to defend myself."  
Killing. Of course, it always came back to that. Only a few months ago she never thought of her skill with a blade would lead to this. A woman she was starting to consider something of a friend was asking her to kill said friend's mother. Lana's gorge began to rise at the thought. But she knew she would do it, ever since Ostagar it was proven again and again that she really was nothing more than a killer for all that people kept praising her as a hero.  
Hero. A bloody butcher was more like it.  
"I'm guessing this is the only way?"  
"Yes, even then it won't completely kill her, just force her to spend time to gather enough power to find a new host."  
So even killing Flemeth meant that some other poor soul was going to get possessed, wonderful.  
Opening her eyes, Marlana stared hard at Morrigan, trying to determine if the apostate was telling the truth. The sick fear in those golden eyes told Marlana all she needed to know. Pushing herself up away from the tree, "All right, I'll see what I can do. I don't know when we'll be in the Korcari Wilds again, but I'll see what I can do. That's all I can promise."  
The relief in Morrigan's voice was clear even as it was hard for her to choke out, "Thank you, Lana."  
Grimly, "Don't thank me until it's done." She pinched the bridge of her nose.  
"You know, there's some kind of irony in what you're asking me."  
The raven winged brows arched up curiously, "Oh?"  
"If there's any truth in the family tales, Flemeth is the reason why my family rules Highever. Or ruled, rather."  
The sorceress frowned for just a moment trying to understand what Marlana was telling her.  
"Connobar was the lord of Highever, after he and his men were messily slaughtered, my many times great grandfather took over the rule of that bann. So now the last Cousland is being asked to kill the woman who put her family into power. If inadvertently."  
Leaving Morrigan speechless and feeling extremely disturbed, she walked back to the main campfire, hoping to have a few moments to herself before the next disaster. Then saw Alistair sitting by the fire, not exactly brooding, but something in his expression bothered her. She tried telling herself it was just because they were friends. Yet things had changed between them since he had given her the rose, there were times they did act as just friends, then other times…  
He grinned as she sat down next to him, "So, what did Morrigan want? Oogie put another half eaten hare in her unmentionables?"  
She couldn't help but laugh at the memory of Morrigan's shriek of disgust and her storming over to the shamelessly grinning warhound. "No, not yet. But I know my hound, he's plotting something."  
"So if it's not your dog harassing her, what is it?" He was still amused, but she couldn't stay that way.  
Marlana couldn't help it, she leaned against a little for support, "She's asked me to do something awful. And Maker forgive me, I'm almost willing to do it."  
"Morrigan, asking someone to do something not nice. Really, what a shocking surprise."  
She jabbed him the ribs lightly with her elbow, provoking an overdramatic "Ow!"  
"So, what is it that got that bitch so upset that it was enough to bother you?"  
She sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly and said softly, "She asked me to kill her mother."  
He stared at her in horrified silence. Lana couldn't look at him directly, she dropped her gaze down to the ground as she quietly laid out all that she'd been told by Morrigan. When the silence dragged on, she started to get up with a mumbled apology for disturbing him. Before she could get very far, she felt his hard, calloused hand grab her arm to keep her from leaving. She sat back down with a slight thump and though his grip loosened, he didn't let go.  
"And will you do it?"  
"I don't know. It's her mother…but at the same time…"  
The way he studied her for a bit, made her uncomfortable, "If do you decide to do it, and I can't tell you either way, because I'm not sure what the best way is, I'll be there to help you."  
It was her turn to stare at him.  
She couldn't read the look he gave her, "I'm your fellow Warden and more importantly, you're my friend. You shouldn't have to do these things alone."


	6. Redcliffe

Dawn came as a welcome respite after the long, terrible night. Though it had been filled with wave after wave of monsters, the abhorrent things could be fought with a whole heart. There was a great deal of difference between chopping up dead bodies animated by demons as opposed to living ones warped by such horrid entities. After sheathing his blade and slinging his shield on his back, Alistair took a deep drink from his waterskin even as he considered the battles that had been fought and won. He wondered if Marlana knew how amazing she'd been. Not just with her usual sword skill, but how she had rallied the ragged defenders again and again.  
Marlana tried not to let on the fact she looked so young because she really was. But there had been something in that short, slim figure standing by the bonfire in the center of the village that kindled hope in them all. Her long silver-white hair shone like the moon above for all that it had been tied up into a braid and the blue eyes held a light and fire brighter than the flames beside her.  
In a voice raised in challenge to all who could hear her, "Men and women of Redcliffe, we will face terrible foes this night. And like the previous nights we will succeed! It will be an end. The end of this terror in the dark. We will not let it consume us. As long as we use our fear to give us strength and do not feed the fear with our strength, we will stand. Remember that you fight not just for yourself, but your families, friends and neighbors. Let your love for them give you purpose. As long as we remain united in our purpose, we will be victorious!"  
As speeches went, it had been clumsy, but he didn't think anyone really noticed, he hadn't really expected her to give a speech and he knew she hadn't intended to do so. Yet it had seemed appropriate to the moment. He'd seen the fear in the voices of those around them, as they moved woodenly already convinced they were doomed. They'd all cheered, Alistair included, not so much at the words, but the sheer defiance against all that had happened to the village. She hadn't seemed so tiny then, eyes blazing with utter certainty that they would survive. More than survive. And when it seemed someone's spirit was flagging as they fought all that long night, she was there with encouragement, or shining blades to defend the fallen.  
Not that the rest of the odd group she'd gathered had slacked in the defense of the village. Even Morrigan had been there calling down terrible curses upon the undead enemies. It didn't stop the raven haired sorceress's acidic comments, but they didn't have the usual bite to them. The villagers had been wary of Sten and leery of Zevran, but they weren't going to turn down any assistance. Marlana had been very careful in how she had her various allies positioned and somehow the village not only survived, but they didn't lose anyone. Not that there weren't grievous injuries.  
Alistair twisted his neck and shoulders, sighing in relief as the pressure in his neck and back dissipated with an audible cracking sound that made those nearby wince at the sound. For a few moments he scanned the area before finally spotting a certain mane of silver hair that was freed from its confinement. The wind off the lake was toying with the edges, causing it to ripple in a way that made him want to run his fingers through it to find out if her hair was as silken as it looked. Seeing Wynne tending to her made his heart clench painfully and with a great deal of purpose bulled his way through the still gathered defenders to the two women. He felt a little sick at the awful gash that ran down from knee to ankle and wondered how exhausted the healer must be if she was using healing salves and bandages rather than magic. When he saw the bloody ruins of her boot he realized that Wynne must have already healed the worst of the woman's wounds.  
Seeing the way Marlana's expression lit at the sight of him caused the former templar to decide to yell at her later for not being more careful. Relief at the fact she was going to be okay caused him to give into the urge to hug her. Since he was still in his massive armor he very carefully wrapped her up in one arm. To his delighted surprise she rested her head on his shoulder tiredly. It was all he could do to not play with the hair that spilled along his arm, yet he couldn't help but to give into the urge to take in her scent. The overriding scents were from the recent battle: sweat, smoke and blood. Underneath was that elusive scent that wasn't just female, but a specific one. Alistair was deeply grateful to be wearing his armor for once, she would've noticed his reaction and didn't want to see her reaction to that.  
"You're amazing, you know that?"  
She laughed softly thinking he was joking.  
"I mean it. You really are, especially last night. But please, you need to be more careful"  
"Wynne said the same thing about taking care. Truthfully, I was scared shitless the entire night."  
"Really?" Alistair had a hard time believing that.  
"Mm hm. Wasn't going to let it stop me though."  
Reluctantly he let her go after hugging her just a little tighter, the flash of disappointment in her eyes warmed him in a way and made him regret how confining his armor could be. Even more warming was the fact she wasn't treating him differently now that he finally told her that he was Maric's bastard. She had simply accepted his revelation as if it answered some questions. He'd appreciated her laughing comment about him being not just a bastard, but a royal bastard since there wasn't a hint of malice. It was a good line, one he'd have to remember for the future.  
No, what had angered her was when she pried out of him how he'd been treated before being sent off to the Chantry. She'd muttered something about how her family would never treat anyone like that. He frowned then, trying to remember what it was about her family that Duncan had told him what seemed like another lifetime ago. But between the massacre at Ostagar, fleeing the Wilds from the encroaching Darkspawn horde he couldn't remember what it was. Some sort nobility he remembered that much. But he didn't want to hurt her by asking.  
Then they had met with Bann Teagan in the Chantry after finding out about the horrors the village had been going through. Before their guide led them to the lord, none of those with Marlana had missed how her shoulders had sagged. Another menace. Another battle. Then she straightened and all saw the grim determination. Then Teagan had taken one look at her on their arrival and oh so helpfully told everyone who the Grey Warden Marlana had been before she was recruited.  
"Bann Teagan, I don't know if you remember me. The last time we met, I was much younger and covered in mud."  
The lord looked thoughtful, "Covered in mud…" His face lit up, "Alistair! Thank the Maker you're here."  
Then his gaze fell on Marlana and he looked perplexed as he tried to place where he knew her, "Forgive me my lady, but I feel I should know you, but cannot place where."  
She looked uncomfortable and rubbed the back of her neck, "I don't believe we've met before, my lord."  
Comprehension dawned on the bann, "Andraste's Grace! You're Bryce Cousland's youngest. Marlana, isn't it?"  
For a moment, Alistair felt sick to his stomach. Here he was a base born bastard and he'd been clumsily courting the woman who would be the new Teyrna of Highever if they survived the War and the Blight. Even if she was a Grey Warden, Highever would never accept anyone else as long as there was a living Cousland. Particularly one of Bryce's children. But the moment passed. How could he treat her the way he didn't want to be treated? She still treated him as Alistair, had even commented that she liked him for who he was, his blood made no difference. So he would pay her the same respect.  
And after all, he hadn't missed the flash of agony in her eyes at the mention of her father. How could he make it that much worse?  
With Alistair's help, Marlana managed to pull on the new pair of boots that Leliana had dug up somewhere. They even had some fancy embroidery on them, a fact that caused both Wardens to roll their eyes. Being the proud person she was, the young woman had fussed and grumped at Alistair when he insisted on helping her get the left boot onto her wounded leg. Of course it gave him the chance to spend more time with her, but she truly needed the help. And he liked to think he did it without humiliating her in what she perceived to be a moment of weakness.  
Between her fellow Warden and her mabari, Marlana limped along to the Chantry where a memorial ceremony was to be held. She could already feel the salve working with the lingering traces of Wynne's magic to knit up her torn flesh, but until the healing finished, she needed the support. Besides, it gave her an excuse to be near a certain warrior. Oh Lana, you really have gotten it bad, haven't you?, she thought with wry amusement. She still wondered what exactly he thought of her, though the hug had seemed to be more than just between friends, she didn't want to read into something that wasn't there.  
Marlana was acutely embarrassed to have the praised heaped upon her by not just Bann Teagan, but Revered Mother Hannah as well. Then Murdock gave his gruff approval and it was just too much. She tried to demure, but none of her companions would let her. She was The Grey Warden, first savior of what was left of the Mage Tower and now hero of Redcliffe. She wanted to scream. Heroes were good people, who actually cared. She squashed the niggling thought that protested, Why are you doing this if you don't care?  
Any hopes for rest to heal up properly were shattered at Teagan's announcement that he was heading into the castle. Gulping down a hasty meal with one of Wynne's vile healing brews, Marlana prepared to storm the castle.  
Teagan was at the cliff past the windmill studying the castle when they finally arrived. He'd begun to lay out his plan about using a secret passage into the castle, one that was only accessible to his family when he stopped as if not believing his eyes. Marlana turned to see a woman in fine clothing running to the little group, accompanying her was a guard whose shield was emblazoned with the Redcliffe device. A guard she didn't recognize from the village. Since the only other place he could have come from was the castle, and there weren't any women dressed in such a way down the village, the woman could only be Isolde.  
As she crossed her arms across her chest to assess the woman, she saw the nervous, worried expression on Alistair's face at the sight and knew her suspicions were correct. So this was the bitch that made his boyhood hell and convinced Eamon to pack him off to the monastery. She was unaware of how her expression had chilled enough that her companions were arranging themselves to contain the imminent explosion. She was just aware that they were repositioning themselves, but since she absolutely trusted the three with her, she disregarded what they were up to.  
When Isolde started talking about some sort of evil in the castle, the Warden listened with cool civility. But as the Orlesian's story continued there were obvious details being left out. This prompted Marlana to question the noblewoman for more information. She was polite. For the most part. When she felt Alistair and Leli edge in closer, a part of her was amused as she realized they were going to try to keep her from doing something Isolde would regret.  
Finally the explosion did occur when Isolde demanded Teagan to go with her to the castle. Alone. "No! Absolutely not! How do we know this isn't a trap?"  
Not wanting Marlana to do something she might, barely, regret later, Alistair clamped his hands down on her shoulders, while Teagan hustled his sister by marriage away from the much more dangerous woman. After convincing Isolde to give them time to talk privately, the Bann slowly approached the Wardens. Alistair didn't frighten Teagan, but Marlana did. He hadn't missed the hug the two shared earlier and realized it was that affection that was letting the warrior manhandle the scary swordswoman. He also suspected that affection spurred some of that hostility if Alistair had told Marlana any of his history.  
She was still furious, but willing to listen to a certain extent. Then he saw the cute red-head and the older mage talking quietly but insistently while Alistair just held her back. The lord truly hoped they could convince her to be reasonable. He knew she could be reasonable, he'd seen it the day before when she was helping the village and how she could sweet talk people around to working with her. The perfect example had been how she convinced Owen to reopen his smithy in time to do the much needed repairs to arms and armor of the village militia. But he'd also seen how protective she could be over those she cared about. The level of violence she'd displayed when she realized who Isolde was spoke volumes.  
"Listen to me, Grey Warden. If we're to have any chance of success at saving my bother and his family I must go with Isolde. If I can keep this evil distracted you and your companions will be enter through that passage I told you about."  
Her blue eyes narrowed into frozen chips and Teagan hoped she didn't pick up how scared he was of her at that moment. Her voice was disturbingly calm as she asked, "I trust this alternative route is easily accessible."  
He swallowed uneasily before answering, "Through the windmill there's a door that can only be activated by a signet ring of my family."  
"How very convenient", the only indication there might be a problem was the way Alistair's hands tightened, but she took the proffered ring calmly enough.  
Marlana was furious about the whole situation. Someone beside this nameless "evil" was playing games. And when she found out who it was…  
Teagan shifted uncomfortably, "I didn't want you charging into the castle until I was sure the village was safe."  
She nodded so very terrifyingly calmly, "So you go with the lying bitch while we sneak in."  
He visibly winced at her words, but didn't want to cause trouble by disputing what she said. "Yes. Just remember your first priority is to get Eamon out. Forget about the rest of us if you have to."  
Oh how she could suddenly shift from ice to fire and he was very glad she was on his side.  
"I swear I will get you all out, Bann Teagan."  
He couldn't understand why she flinched when he said, "The Maker truly blessed me when he brought you here, Lady."  
Marlana stared down at the ring in her hand, and then the windmill after the bann had departed. She didn't remember Alistair letting go, or Leliana and Wynne backing up. It was only when she was able to move around without any hindrance that she saw they had backed off. She looked up at the disturbingly quiet seeming castle. Then she headed into the windmill and the passage within it without looking back.  
The passage lead to the dungeons. She wasn't surprised that they were there; even Castle Cousland had them though they were rarely used. What she hadn't expected was that there was a prisoner there. Still alive in fact.  
A young mage. A bloodmage.  
Wynne recognized him, called him Jowan, apparently he'd gone apostate shortly before Cailan called up the forces for Ostagar. She listened in silence as he told his tale. Recruited by Loghain to poison the Arl, hired by Isolde to tutor Connor, the young son of Eamon and his wife. What he was tutoring the boy in clearly shocked Alistair.  
The boy was a mage.  
So much suddenly became clear. Hadn't she seen for herself what happens when a mage loses control? She could see it so easily, a young boy just learning how to control his strange abilities, his father falling ill so quickly… Wouldn't she have done something similar at that age with that kind of power? Privately she acknowledged to herself that just a few months ago if she suddenly had the power of a mage she would have done the same to save her loved ones. She would've been struck down, but they'd be alive. Shoving the self pity to the side, Marlana turned her focus to the what is, not the what if.  
Because she couldn't trust Jowan, she left him in his cell as she and her friends went to finish what they'd started the night before. But she wasn't going to kill him, just in case. That none of the other three, who had survived the horrors of the Tower with her, didn't disagree about leaving Jowan alive… She'd said it was because he might prove useful, but the truth was she saw the beaten look in his eyes and heard in his voice true regret at what he did. But wasn't that why she had spared that other mage in the Tower? Unfortunately the woman had died in the end, but she'd done it saving other mages. Or rather, apprentices. That alone had redeemed that bloodmage in Marlana's eyes and hoped the Maker was as merciful as Leli claimed.  
They found precious few survivors as they wended their way through the castle. At least they found the smith's daughter, alive and unharmed if scared witless, and the Warden felt some satisfaction at knowing she was able to fulfill at least one bargain. They did find even more of the undead monsters and the cold practical part of her wondered if there would be enough left of Redcliffe's forces for the army she was building. As much as the plight of the village tugged at her, she still had to remember her true focus was the Blight.  
After getting lost a few times, they found a servant's entrance that Alistair remembered. It led to the stables, which had an entrance off the main courtyard. As they passed through the disturbingly empty stalls when Alistair stopped at one and exclaimed happily, "Hey my old stall! They've it nice and stuff. Awww."  
Red haze clouded Marlana's vision causing her to stumble in mid-step. They kept him the stables. In a stall with a bed made up of straw. Those bastards, how can such a good man like that think so well of people that did that to him. Even the stable boys at home had proper beds. Even if they were barracks style, they had beds. And a small place to call their own, not to be displaced by a horse whose shit would have to be mucked out before a boy could use it again.  
Unable to hide her fury, she stomped down the end of the aisle, afraid of what she might say.  
Alistair stared after her in utter bafflement. What was wrong with the stall? Sure it was a little drafty in winter, but extra straw and blankets took care of that. Wynne watched after the very angry young woman and regretted her previous lecture, "Whatever you do Alistair, don't dismiss her reaction."  
"But it's nothing.'  
"Oh, Alistair", Leliana sighed. "Telling her it's nothing means that what she considers important really isn't."  
He stared down the way, barely able to see the gleam of silver hair, or sun-kissed golden skin, "Great, I stepped into it with her. Again."  
Leliana laughed and patted his shoulder, "That's what friends are for, no? To make sure we don't 'step in it'. And you haven't, yet. And we'll make sure you don't."  
They almost didn't see her where she was waiting just inside the stable doorway as she regarded the courtyard thoughtfully. At least she seemed thoughtful, her face was very carefully blank of all emotion and her stance wasn't giving anything away at all. The other three became just as thoughtful when they saw the small horde of skeletal beings out there. And in the center of said horde stood a tall being in ornate armor with a massive two handed sword.  
Revenant.  
A particularly powerful undead, it could wield its blade and magic with equal ease. There'd been one in the Tower, it had been a difficult fight and until the later horrors, they thought it was the worst thing they'd encountered. But the sloth demon proved them wrong, and Uldred… Well best not to think of that.  
Brown eyes met blue as the two wardens glanced at each other, already knowing how they're going to do this. They grin briefly before he unslings sword and shield, rolls his neck and shoulders to loosen them before charging into the fray, with Alistair bellowing, "Hey Ugly! Yeah, you in the girly armor!"  
Even as Alistair is attracting attention the way only he can, she's already slipped into the long afternoon shadows, easily sidestepping around the various lesser creatures. By the time she's gotten into place, the templar has already traded blows with his opponent. It can't use its magic simply because Alistair has already locked down it power. She stepped out of the shadows as the wickedly sharp blades in her hands gleam in the sunlight diving towards their target. Alistair is kind enough to bash the thing backwards with his shield as her blades connect. Between the two the thing goes down quickly.  
From there it doesn't take long to clear out the rest of the skeletal creatures and to open the gates for the few remaining knights of Redcliffe. With Ser Perth, the commander of the knights, they finally entered the main hall. And madness.  
There were living human guards stationed about the room, but they stood stiffly and their expressions were blank. To Marlana's eyes they looked like life sized versions of the wooden soldiers her brother had passed down to her when he was too old for them and she was more interested in blades and poisons and cracking open mechanical devices than dolls and fake tea parties.  
Before the massive central fireplace stood a boy about eight to ten years old being entertained by a capering jester that looked far too much like Teagan for comfort. To the side stood Isolde, looking sick and scared with silent tears pouring down her cheeks.  
She figured the boy was Connor. The madness in his eyes was all too familiar. After all she'd seen the same thing again and again and again in the Tower. So their worst fears had come to pass. Connor was possessed.  
Finally the boy acknowledged their presence or rather hers, though he seemed to have a difficult time focusing on her or even knowing what she was. Everyone else around, but Marlana… Even after being told by his mother that Marlana was a woman and his cutting remark in response, his eyes still couldn't seem to fully register her. Once again she wondered what the Fade had done to her. But she didn't dwell on that as she tried to deal as tactfully as she could with the insane child. The worst part was how he would swiftly change from young boy to demon.  
Connor yelled about craving action and excitement before running off. The soldiers finally came to life and with Teagan attacked the party. Yelling for the others to disable, but not kill, the swordswoman tried to follow her own orders by using shallow arcs of her weapons to make temporary crippling wounds. Soon they were subdued and Teagan seemed himself again.  
Once the wounded were tended to, Marlana quietly paced back and forth, but carefully. She was fairly certain she'd reopened the wound in her leg and if Alistair saw her leaking, he'd be pissed and really fuss. Those were just idle thoughts she had, trying to avoid the fact that all these people were talking about killing a child. The thought made her sick. And mad. But then again it was all too easy for her to get angry these days. Anger kept her going so she wouldn't curl up into a little ball of tears.  
"I am not killing a child."  
Alistair was clearly distressed, "I'd normally agree, but he's possessed…" There were quiet murmurs of agreement from most of those present.  
Isolde was frantic, "But you saw, he wasn't always the demon."  
"There must be a better way than that. He doesn't seem like the other abominations we've…dealt with."  
Wynne rubbed her forehead thoughtfully, "If the demon isn't physically in Connor, but still In the Fade, we might be able to destroy it there."  
Marlana's eyes gleamed the way her mabari's did when he was on the trail of something particularly tasty.  
The mage continued, "It would require more mages and lyrium than we have access to."  
"There's the still the Circle. There's enough mages left to do what's needed to be done. I'd also wager they have enough lyrium."  
Hope slowly grew in Teagan's expression, "It's only a day away by boat, but do we have the time?"  
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "We have to take the chance. My lord, if you would be so kind as to make arrangements with my companions? There's something I need to do before we leave."  
He nodded, looking confused, but those who knew her best more than likely had an idea of what she had planned.  
"You want us to do what? I am not a babysitter", Morrigan complained while Sten simply loomed and Zevran leaned against a wall cleaning his finger nails with a dagger.  
Marlana rubbed her temples and grumbled to herself about everyone being taller, even the elf. "Because I can trust the three of you to be practical if things get out of hand here while I'm gone."  
"More magic, Grey Warden? There's been more than enough trouble with that…filth," Sten complained.  
"I am not killing a child if I can help it, Sten. I don't care if you think that's weak."  
He stared at her, but didn't say anything further. She turned to Zev and handed him two vials, one smaller than the other. "I know you're sneaky enough, make sure Connor gets slipped a couple of drops of the small vial in his meals. It'll keep him docile. I don't dare drug him to sleep, it might let the demon take full control. The other is to sedate Isolde when she gets too hysterical." The handsome elf grinned as he accepted his assignment with the compliment that had been unspoken by his leader, she figured he wouldn't have a problem with her request. Morrigan made a few more half-hearted grumbles, but for some reason the fact Marlana wasn't willing to sacrifice a child seemed to have gotten to the woman.  
Then came the frantic trip across the odd waters of the Lake to the Tower. Fortunately Irving was not only willing to assist them, he quickly organized a group of mages to go back with them, including the First Enchanter himself. She doesn't blame him, for all that it looked like most of the bodies were cleared out on the first floor, and it still reeked of death and blood. She wondered how long the stone walls would carry the silent echoes of the screaming she still heard sometimes.  
Then another frantic trip across the lake, praying that Morrigan and Sten didn't have to do the awful things she'd set them to do, that her poisons did what they were supposed to. At least this trip goes faster, their passage sped by magic helping with the wind and water.  
The castle is still quiet when they arrive, but this time they're greeted by human guards that look and act human. Inside is Teagan and Isolde, the later looking calmer than she expected. Zev catches her attention and gives her a smug grin. So the drugs worked. She wanted to sag in relief, but doesn't dare, because the mages are ready and it's time to send someone into the Fade.  
But that someone isn't Marlana. She isn't a mage so they can't send her through the way they can a mage. But that isn't right she's the one who supposed to do such things to protect her friends. Sending Wynne or Morrigan into a fight without backup from anyone else is like something from her nightmares. How can she protect her companion if she does this? But there is no choice, none at all. Knowing that Morrigan is better in a fight, she sends the raven haired sorceress while the rest of the group stare at her in horror. But she trusts Morrigan, though she probably shouldn't, she does.  
Then the long waiting. Where it turns out that yes she had reopened the wound in her leg. And lucky her, it's Alistair who notices the faint seepage, who finally does haul her up in his arms like a week old kitten to take to her to Wynne for treatment. They don't lecture her, they just give her that look. The disappointment hurts more than any yelling. And she's too tired to get angry, because dammitall they're right. And secretly wishes that Alistair had a better reason to pick her up the way he did, though she would've rather had seen another expression on his face than that grim worry. Her leg wasn't that bad.  
Morrigan wakes first, tired and irritable, but announces that the demon is gone And doesn't know how to handle the thanks that the others give her. Marlana is the only one who sees the woman make a quick escape to the outdoors. Then Connor wakes as himself and no recollection of all that has happened.  
And that particular nightmare is over. But Eamon is still unconscious, they'd all hoped that with the demon gone, whatever kept him asleep would go to. But life just isn't that easy or simple. Marlana is ready to piss everyone off by killing the annoying arlessa when she starts in on the Urn of Sacred Ashes.  
Yet Marlana finds herself agreeing to another insane quest.


	7. Adding To The Menagerie

As was typical of her luck, the golem still stood inert with fists in the air full of unspoken defiance. So either the golem was broken beyond repair, or the control rod, or the idiot merchant gave her the wrong command phrase. So she stood and glared at it as she played with the end of her long braid, unconsciously careful of the ribbon used to tie it up, while Wynne puttered around the thing muttering to herself and Zevran standing off to the side giving her odd, uneasy glances. Marlana never thought she'd miss the way he looked at her as if he were undressing her with his mind's eye, but now he's looking at her like some dangerous creature he'd never seen before. And Alistair… for all that he seemed to be standing casually with sword sheathed at his side and shield slung on his back, looks like he's ready to kill something and it's not the elf.  
She can feel the insane desire to kill something too and understands why only the two Wardens are affected by it. Yet, she can't feel the pressure that comes in her head when there's any number of Darkspawn about. But they're there and both of them know it. Every time they look at each other it's out of frustration because the monstrous things are nearby, but she doesn't know where they are like she always does. Even when they're concealed from immediate sight and somehow masking their presence, she always knows they're nearby. And right now she knows, so does Alistair and neither of them can find the things. Unless…  
There are no Deep Roads nearby, but there are cellars. If some of the villagers hid in their cellars… As she goes to say something to her fellow Warden, she can see he's come to something of the same conclusion and he's already scanning the area for likely entrances. He's the one to notice the door that's partially hidden and slightly ajar. Neither says anything as weapons are drawn and Marlana is stalking along Alistair's side and Oogie eagerly bounding between them, Wynne simply looks resigned as she follows at a safe distance. Zevran follows the others, thinking more than he cares to, but still alert. It wouldn't do to get eaten by Darkspawn with two Wardens around after all.  
Dark blonde and silver heads suddenly go up, as if testing the wind. While they aren't actually sniffing the air, they're certainly doing something. "Darkspawn", they say as one even before they see or hear the first few villagers fleeing their home screaming in fear. Zevran has never considered himself a coward and he'd seen a fair few odd things in his life. But seeing how a pair of Wardens react to the things they're sworn to defend is more than just a little scary. It's down right creepy to use one of Alistair's favorite phrases. But there's no sign of the playful goof as the male warden charges ahead using his shield as some sort of miniature battering ram, only grim determination to destroy the monstrous creatures. Somehow keeping up with him is the short, slight woman whose blades shine brightly in the sunlight and seem keen enough to cut the very air to ribbons. He gets a glimpse of the feral gleam in those sapphire eyes and for the first time is actually terrified of her.  
He's seen in her in combat before, after all he'd been taken down by her strength and skill, but then she'd only seemed like an ordinary human, if one that was more skilled than most. He'd seen her against the undead things at Redcliffe, and hadn't that been just fun? But she'd been more of an inspiration to those around her. He hadn't actually seen her as a Warden. He falters just a little at seeing so many Darkspawn up close since he'd avoided the things for the most part. Even Wynne doesn't seem all that affected, but he belatedly remembers the mage was also a survivor of Ostagar. Zev won't go back on his oath, for one thing he had no desire to be cut apart by the pretty swordswoman, and another she needs all the help she can get.  
For all that she terrifies him now (and let's not forget, downright creepy) when fully in her persona as a Grey Warden, he feels an odd sense of relief. He can see her as just a friend, not another challenge to get into his bed. This will make it that much easier to tease Alistair to make the young man blush so charmingly without having any of the hidden barbs to try to chase off a rival.  
There are cellars. Or rather cellar, a big one even. And Darkspawn, but they make short work of the filthy beasts. They even find villagers, living ones. A fact they'd been hoping for, but didn't expect would actually come to pass. They don't expect to see the translucent barrier made of solidified lavender light. One that looked all too familiar the three who had been in the Tower and confronted by the nearly broken templar that had been so hellishly confined… Marlana can feel her expression going grim, wondering what else they were going to find here besides Darkspawn.  
A man with the look of more farmer than mage and a short golden braid stares at the small group suspiciously for a moment, "You don't look much like the Bann's men."  
The silver haired woman sighs to herself wondering how this group will react. She doesn't fancy the idea of having to defend herself from the very people she's sworn to protect. "We're not, we're Grey Wardens."  
"Grey Wardens? And the bann didn't send you? Then who did?"  
"Er, well a merchant."  
The not-mage's face looks disgusted, "Oh, I see. You're here about it then." He raises his hand, the lavender changes to gold and he beckons for them to join him. No one blames Marlana for eyeing it warily before lightly skimming her hand along its surface before entering. When nothing untoward happens the other three follow her in.  
"So you came because of Shale?"  
"If that's the golem, yes. Honestly though if I'd known there were Darkspawn here I would've come anyway."  
He waves her off, not dismissively, after all he did see how she and her companions just messily slaughter a pack of the monsters "No, I understand. Despite what some would say, I believe a Warden about Darkspawn. I'm Matthias and my father Wilhelm once owned the golem."  
"I want you to seriously reconsider reactivating Shale. It killed my father, broke so many of his bones mother couldn't recognize him and we found it standing over him like that. A terrible fate for a mage who once served the Arl of Redcliffe and a hero in the war with Orlais."  
Marlana listens, eyes dark with thought. She can sympathize how he'd feel, but at the same time something doesn't stand in defiance like that for no reason, but she doesn't say anything because she does understand his feelings.  
"She sold the control rod and left Shale standing there because we couldn't do anything else with it. And if you did manage to activate the thing, I'd be worried about stopping it if it's bent on more destruction."  
She thinks of the horrors of the Tower and Redcliffe and figures that one single golem isn't going to be that much of a challenge, but she's not up to arguing. This was supposed to be a quick detour on their way to Denerim so she simply says, "I see."  
Matthias grimaces, "All right, I can see I can't talk you out of it, but I'm going to ask a favor of you. I know you saved my life and for that I'm grateful. But my daughter ran down into what was my father's laboratory, I don't know the key to the defenses like I did to this barrier. One of the men went after her…"  
Glances are exchanged, she can see at least Wynne and Alistair are sympathetic and Zev doesn't seem to care either way. Even if she didn't think the golem would be a valuable asset, they're talking about a child in danger. Mentally she grimaces at herself, she's far too predictable.  
Gratitude suffuses the worried man's features and she waves him off, "Don't thank me, not yet."  
So she goes down into a deeper tunnel that once belonged to a mage. And isn't that going to be fun, she mentally complains. For once something involving a mage only involves a few minor traps that she easily disables. There are a few demons, but nothing like what they faced in the Tower. Then they arrive at his workroom with a short hall leading to another golden barrier. Not eager to try that defense, Marlana pokes around some of the open books and her lips thin. Demonology, but no mention of blood magic at least. Using demonology to do experiments on the golem. Oh yes, she was quite right about the angry defiance of the golem's posture. But she didn't expect this. Was Wynne an exception and all mages were insane? She frowned a little, a mage with wife and child… She doesn't comment, because she can see the sorrow in the older woman's eyes and while Marlana isn't the nicest person, or even a good one, she cares for the little family she's made for herself.  
She shakes off that little thought, because she can see where everyone fits into their own places in her heart… but she isn't sure where to put Alistair. Or she can, but not in a place she never thought would be taken by someone she can actually care for, or, or, or… Well, best not to think of that. Not when there's Maker knows what behind that barrier.  
Behind the barrier is a little girl with blonde pigtails who so clearly is Matthias's daughter Amalia. With her is a cat. Or something in the guise of a cat. A talking cat. A talking cat that admits to being a demon after some poking. So she agrees to let the demon free in exchange for Amalia's life. Leaving Zevran to entertain girl and "cat" and Alistair in demon-hunting templar mode and Oogie confused by a cat that won't run from him, the two women quickly work out how to unravel the wards. Then the "cat" makes the mistake of taking on its true form causing its erstwhile host to flee. Marlana smiles with cold malice as her blades slowly slide out of their sheaths in silence, "I promised to free you demon, I didn't promise to let you live."  
It's a quick battle, a desire demon with a handful of minor rage demons aren't much of challenge. The way back is a bit slower going with more angry demons appearing and being dispatched. Then they're back with Matthias and his little girl and Marlana sincerely hopes that he doesn't just leave the barrier, but seals the damn entrance up permanently.  
"Thank you so much, Warden. You can't know how grateful I am. I wish you'd reconsider waking Shale, but you can obviously handle yourself. The activation phrase is Dulen Harn." Then the man and his daughter quickly leave the place. Suddenly tired, though not from the physical exertion, she leads the way up the stairs back to the sunny town center where the golem awaited them.  
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Alistair asked in concern, "I mean, it did kill a mage rather messily."  
She gives him a wry grin, her big blue eyes holding a rare glint of mischief, "I promise I'll make sure there's enough left of me for you to say 'I told you so' if I'm wrong."  
He grumbles at her, but subsides. Taking a deep breath and feeling more than a little awkward, Marlana raised the control rod while saying, "Dulen Harn."  
The results aren't as dramatic as she secretly hoped and thinks she's spent too much time listening to Leliana's stories. There's a cracking, then creaking, finally it shook its arms and head a like someone waking from a long sleep. When it speaks the voice is surprisingly…female.  
"I knew the day would come when someone would finally find the control rod. And not even a mage this time. Probably stumbled across the rod by accident, I suppose. Typical."  
Even though the golem, Shale, kept calling her "it", Marlana found she liked the sarcastic being. She decided to share the love when Shale demanded an order, she got to annoy Zevran by ordering the golem to give the elf a hug. Alistair still wasn't enthused at taking such a large dangerous thing with them, but she didn't have the heart to just leave Shale to her devices. Or inflict Shale on the rest of the world without a buffer.  
As they left the village with golem in tow she mused on how she just needed a dwarf to have a complete menagerie. Then she heard the wet crunching noise behind her, told herself that she wasn't going to look, but she did. They all did, Shale stood at a distance with what looked like a crushed chicken next to her and shrugged innocently. Oh yes, she had quite the menagerie.  
Once they had camped for the evening after trying to make up for lost time, Marlana was quietly amused at Leliana trying to poke Shale into telling tales. She could see that Sten seemed relieved not to be the object of her attention as he and Alistair went about putting the last of the defenses in place around camp. Zev seemed preoccupied and kept shooting her those odd looks. Wynne and Morrigan seemed to be working on their…whatever it was that each mage was brewing. She feared the day the two of them got over their animosity and actually worked together to brew up something truly vile. With her luck she'd be the recipient.  
But woolgathering wasn't going to see dinner made. Deftly she cleaned and skinned the brace of rabbits that Oogie had brought back after his foray in the bushes. She minced the meat, added in onions and some wild rosemary she'd found, fried it before tossing it into the cookpot to simmer with the dried vegetables she already had in water to soften. As she prepared bannock to go with the stew, she idly wondered how Nan would have reacted to her former charge cooking. Probably with horror and the demand that someone check it for poison, Marlana thought ruefully, her heart aching at the loss of her acerbic caretaker.  
Once dinner was consumed and cleaned up, she sat a bit off from the others watching them all thoughtfully. Even Morrigan was sitting at the main bonfire, looking as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but the sorceress was actually attempting to be sociable while Leliana started asking for requests for tales or songs. Ever since that disastrous night of provoking Lana into revealing more than she cared for, Leli generally respected when Marlana wanted some modicum of solitude. She was trying not to brood, but she couldn't help it. Somewhere along the lines simple allies had become so much more and now they felt like her family. She knew she should welcome it, but it couldn't. After how she failed her birth family and the sister of her heart, she knew that when they needed her the most, she'd fail them too.  
She just prayed that when they finally figured out where the Archdemon was she wouldn't fail at that.  
With his interesting sense of timing, Alistair plopped himself down on the log next to her and immediate crashed through the half-rotted out thing and sending the slight woman flying. Right into him, or rather on him. They lay sprawled out half-dazed for a moment, before realizing the horribly compromising position they were in and that they had an audience. Both of them turning bright red, they managed to disentangle from each other and brush the worst of the debris. There's a ripple of laughter, even from Sten, which is probably the most galling part. But Leli decides to start in on a funny, bawdy tale. It was partly at their expense, since it was about a pair of young lovers that sounded a little too familiar, and partly to distract the others.  
She can't quite look him in the eye, because she liked being there with him and she should be just keeping it friends because to become more than that invited disaster. She wasn't strong enough to survive if, no when, she failed him. "Are you all right, Alistair?"  
"Ugh. I think I did something to my as… err back. How come you didn't fall through that thing before?" He surreptitiously rubbed his backend.  
Lana glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye, a hint of laughter making it sparkle, "I probably weight less than half of you and I didn't just well, plop down like that."  
"Yeah, yeah, be all logical like that." He shifted a little uncomfortably, "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?"  
She blinked up at him in confusion and found herself toying with the end of her braid again. This time realizing how careful she was of the ribbon that she used to tie off the end, if only because it'd been part of a gift. Alistair had gotten her a handful of hair ribbons after he heard her try, and fail, to talk Leliana, then Wynne, into helping her cut her hair. Both had been mortified at the thought and she wondered if they'd been the ones to suggest that he get them, but she didn't think so. She jerked her thoughts back to the man from the memory of him stammering nervously as he gave his gift to her. "Of course. What do you need?"  
You, he wanted to tell her to his mortification, but he wasn't ready for that. Not yet. If ever. He cleared his throat a little, "Since we're going to Denerim to find this Brother Genetivi, I was hoping if you don't mind if we stopped to see someone else there."  
"Not at all, who did you have in mind?" A thousand sarcastic comments had come to mind, but she couldn't mock him. Not right now.  
He looked away, "I know we didn't really talk about what you saved me from in the Fade. I couldn't, not then, because it meant telling you about the whole being Maric's bastard thing."  
She nodded and waited patiently.  
"Well, I know I told you that my mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe. She had a daughter, my…older sister. Half-sister. She's the only family I have left that isn't mixed up in the whole royal thing."  
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "After I joined the Wardens I did some searching. She lives in Denerim, near the market. I… just wanted to see her, warn her about the Blight in case…"  
Heart aching, she stopped him with a light touch on his shoulder, "I understand. We'll go find her."  
The hope in his eyes made her heart ache even more as he gently clasped her hand on his shoulder with the opposite hand, holding it for just the moment. "Thank you. I think you're the only one who does."  
Marlana truly hoped the woman didn't prove to be a demon.


	8. The Way To A Man's Heart Is Through His Stomach

"So what are you up to?"  
Hearing Alistair's boyishly cheerful question made Marlana's head jerk up in confusion causing the long flood of her silver-white hair to come tumbling out of the ribbon she'd been using to hold it out of her face. Since the last time she saw him in deep conversation about something with Zev (she refused to think about what that conversation must have been like) she hadn't expected him to wander over so soon so she'd indulged in allowing herself to concentrate on the book she'd been slowly reading on and off. As was usual for her the last few weeks, seeing the warm smile on his ruggedly handsome face was more than a little distracting.  
Because she was more annoyed at her reaction to Alistair than the fact he managed to startle her, Marlana's answer was curter than she intended it to be, "Reading."  
To buy herself a moment to think as she retied her hair she glanced around the campsite for something to distract him from her and froze. Off on the opposite end of the usual evening campfire Zev was apparently entertaining not just Leliana, but Wynne as well with one of his outrageous stories. Since Wynne was normally not very pleased with the ex-Crow that she was laughing at his tale was disturbing. Even more disturbing was seeing Shale and Sten talking with Morrigan in the distance where the dark haired sorceress normally set up her own small fire. She firmly decided she did not want to know what they were up to.  
Using the young woman's momentary distraction, Alistair swooped down and grabbed the small book off her lap, "I could see you were reading. But more to the point, what was it that required such concentration. You can usually hear a rabbit running a few hundred yards off, much less me stomping up to you" His warm golden brown eyes glinted with the mischief that shown so brightly in the smirk he wore at her startled yelp at his actions.  
Keeping a finger to mark the spot she'd been reading, he closed the book to read the title and gave a whoop of laughter cause their other traveling companions to turn and look in their direction. Their reactions caused her to slouch down somewhat while her cheeks flushed with color from embarrassment.  
"The Traveling Cook, huh? I knew you could be a saucy wench, but this really does take the cake." Grinning at her exasperated expression, he flipped open the book to the page he saved, then frowned at what he read. Still keeping the place marked he flipped through a few more random sections. Watching his growing confusion, Marlana's annoyance was quickly replaced by a growing amusement.  
"Maker's Breath! A cookbook, Lana? Really?"  
As he stared at her, she took the opportunity to snatch her book back.  
"Yes, a cookbook. If I must eat like my brother did at my age I want to eat something edible", while she spoke she marked the latest recipe she was learned with the scrap of fabric she'd been using as a bookmark. Curious, Alistair carefully settled down on the log next to her. Even though he was wearing plain traveling clothes at the moment, he was still solid enough to be careful about what he sat down on. Especially when Marlana was involved because she weighed less than half than he did and tended to choose perches that couldn't support his bulk. When the log didn't even creak in protest, he relaxed.  
"Can't stand anymore of Morrigan's wildwood stew?"  
'I don't have any problems with her cooking, but I seem to be the only one. Everyone else seems convinced she's going to poison us all. Or worse. Except for Zev, but he says that danger tends to give life a certain spice."  
With her big blue eyes sparkling with amusement and her generous mouth curved up in a grin at the templar's pained expression, she was unaware of how lovely she looked in that one brief moment where she wasn't a Grey Warden and simply an 18 year old woman laughing with a friend. Even more unaware of what it did to that friend's heart. He gave himself a mental shake before he put his foot in his mouth around her. Again.  
"Well, we all know that Zev prefers not to cook which is a good thing. But what about Wynne or Leliana?"  
"Wynne is kept busy enough with keeping us alive despite ourselves. And after the time she mixed up a potion she was brewing and dinner… No. As for Leliana, did you really want bread and steamed vegetables again?"  
He thought that one over and visibly shuddered. It wasn't that it was bad, it was just not a very filling meal for either Warden. Like many other things that were never explained to either of the last Wardens of Ferelden they both had increased appetites that required something more substantial to keep them going. Alistair was unfazed about it for the most part, but he was also a warrior who needed the energy that meat provided. Marlana still wasn't resigned to the fact she was eating more than when she entered puberty, but being a practical soul she usually just dealt with it.  
Neither of them mentioned about his infamous lamb and pea stew. The supposed stew was an experience no one else in the group was willing to repeat. A thick, greasy, grey-brown sludge no one, not even Alistair, had been able to choke down more than a mouthful. Even Oogie, Marlana's bottomless pit of a mabari hound, had flat out refused his mistress's uneaten portion.  
While Sten wasn't an awful cook, but his idea of cooking was to stick whatever they happened to hunt that day on a skewer and roast it. Which not only could get tiresome quickly, if it wasn't fully cooked someone could get sick. Marlana didn't care to have a repeat of that situation, even if Wynne's healing magic was able to cure the worst of it.  
"Besides, you seemed to like what I made tonight."  
Since it involved meat, potatoes and vegetables swimming in cheese, he'd of course loved it. Well, he didn't care about the vegetables, but he liked the meat and cheese. Especially the cheese. Judging by how it was devoured by everyone else, it'd apparently had enough to appeal to everyone. The mabari was put out at having to eat his regular food since there weren't any leftovers for him to have.  
Alistair looked at her in amazement, "You made that, really?"  
Still amused she nodded. "That and dinner for the past week."  
"Huh. I noticed that there'd been an improvement lately, but I didn't realize it was you."  
Then he looked at her with concern, "You don't really have to do that you know. There's so much else that you're doing, you don't need to do that too."  
She crossed her arms, trying not to glare at him, her amusement fading, "This is my contribution to camp duties. I may have ended up leading this menagerie, but it's not fair to let everyone else take care of camp."  
He wondered if he knew that was part of why the "menagerie" followed her. At first it had been a mutual desire to stop the Blight, or in Shale's case, to see the world and squish soft fleshy creatures. What kept them together and smoothed all the jagged edges to make them a unified whole was her obvious care for people she had come to consider friends.  
Not for the first time he wondered what she truly thought of him beyond being a fellow Warden and fighting partner. Because when they were in battle, be it Darkspawn, bandits or abominations, the two fought as a unified whole, neither having to think about what actions the other were going to take on the battlefield. He'd charge their enemies to keep their focus on him while her blades flashed with lethal grace from behind. They even seemed to generally have the same outlook on life, though she was sometimes more cynical.  
For the most part she seemed receptive to his advances, but he couldn't be sure all the time. There were times where Marlana seemed to make her own advances, but then would pull back for some reason. He felt…he wasn't sure what to call it. It was huge and complicated and made his heart thump in weird ways with her. That she clearly wore only the hair ribbons he'd gifted her when she tied up her hair made his heart thump even more. And how badly he wanted to pull those ribbons out to see her hair spill down around her face and down her back…  
"So you are the reason why everyone else seems to give me a hard time about doing anything in setting up or breaking down camp." The slight edge in her voice jerked his thoughts out of his speculation. Damn, he had managed to put his foot in his mouth again with her.  
He placed one hand over his heart in mock hurt, "Perish the thought. As if I could get away with ordering anyone around. Particularly Morrigan."  
Marlana couldn't help herself, the image of Morrigan actually listening to Alistair made her laugh, unaware that the sweet, velvety sound made his knees weak and very grateful to be sitting down. He shifted a little closer to her on the log. At her questioning look he made a broad gesture at not just the camp, but the world beyond it.  
"So all this time we've spent together… you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battle and the whole Blight looming over us… Will you miss it once it's over?"  
Wondering where he was going with the sudden change in topic, she responded lightly, "It makes me tear up just thinking about it."  
"Ha!" He shook his head slightly, "Eh, there'll be no more running for our lives… no more Darkspawn… Ugh. And no more camping out in the middle of nowhere."  
Clearly amused at his last comment, "You know, for someone who lived in a monastery for most of his life, you sure do you like your creature comforts."  
"Hmph, shows just how much you know about life in the monastery. We had things like beds with pillows and proper baths. While we had to use an outhouse, at least it wasn't the bushes."  
As he intended she laughed hard enough to make her hold her stomach and caused odd glances in their direction. He abruptly got to his feet and began to pace restlessly, not letting himself look at her closely, because otherwise he'd be undone. In more ways than one if he'd made the move he wanted to and she wasn't receptive.  
Concerned and slightly dizzy from watching him for a few moments, the slight woman gracefully got to her feet and lightly touched his arm, "What's the matter?"  
Seeing that they had an audience when he didn't answer right away and figuring that there was something private that needed to be discussed she came to a decision, "Right, let's take a walk."  
Instead of relaxing once out of the immediate line of sight of the others, Alistair seemed even more nervous. Concern quickly changed to worry and wondering what she may have done to upset him she reached out again to him again. Before her hand touched his arm, he stopped and gave her a shy look without speaking. She looked up at him, sapphire eyes gone dark with worry, "Alistair, talk to me. What's wrong?"  
Finally he spoke, his entire manner strangely hesitant, "I…know it might sound strange, Lana. Considering that we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to… care for you. A great deal. I think maybe we've gone through so much together." His voice softened, "I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever", he lightly tapped his chest, "feel the same way about me?"  
Listening to his hesitant speech ripped at her heart, the hopeful yet guarded expression in his eyes and the slightly self-deprecating smile kept her speechless for a moment. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she whispered, "I, I think I already do."  
All she could see was the sudden joy that lit his face as he moved in on her. He cupped her face in his warm, calloused hands that were surprisingly gentle considering the strength in them and he practically purred, "So I fooled you did I? Hm, good to know."  
Then he kissed her. He'd obviously intended to be a light chaste kiss, but as his lips met hers, it felt like she was filled with a fluttery warmth that spread from her center and out through her whole being causing her to part her mouth under his. One of his hands slid up along her cheek to cradle her head as the other slid down her side to wrap around her waist and pull her close. Not stopping to think she wrapped her arms around him as took her invitation for what it was and slowly slid his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, learning her, even as she did the same with him. She tasted of fire and ice and an unexpected sweetness. He tasted of strength and light and something more that she didn't want to admit to herself.  
When they finally came up for air, she staggered slightly against him, he held her still and asked hoarsely, "That, that wasn't too soon was it?"  
Trying to gather her wits about it, she blinked up at him, eyes gone blurry and her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. For the first time since the former templar had met her, he could see the sharp mind that was constantly ticking over was stopped in its tracks. She coughed slightly, "I think I need more testing before I can tell you."  
Giddy from the emotions running through him he smiled, "I guess I'll have to see what I can arrange then. Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a truly lucky man."  
He reluctantly started to disengage but paused as she quietly said his name.  
This time she looked away shyly as he looked down at her, "I'd like to ask a favor."  
"Anything that is within my power, my dear."  
"Will you hold me? For just a little while?"  
"That is a pleasure, not a favor." He held her close again and marveled at the fact she fit just perfectly under his chin. Indulging himself he buried his face in the silken hair that shimmered in the brilliant moonlight even as he finally ran his fingers through her silver mane, marveling at the feel under his rough fingers. And could fully draw in the scent that was nothing but Marlana and thought he could drown in her gladly.  
Marlana sighed in contentment, glad for the moment to forget about her worries and responsibilities as she rested her check against his chest, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart. Feeling the carefully contained strength of his arms wrapped around her and the wild male scent of him that did complicated things to mind and heart and body and soul.  
For the first time since her life turned into a waking nightmare she had something, someone, to make it all worthwhile. And so she let herself dream just a little bit on that beautiful early summer night that was lit by the full moon overhead that maybe things would end up okay after all.  
Cradled in his embrace, she held tight to the man who had managed to capture her heart despite herself.


	9. Acts of Passion

The pain in those golden brown eyes was more than she could bear. But he doesn't say anything as they walk back to the inn the party was staying at for the moment. Or rather, he walks and she does a funny skip-walk to keep up with him since he's chosen to walk the full length of his stride instead of shortening it the way he usually does.  
Unfortunately the Goldanna of reality matched nothing of the one spun in the twisted dreams of the Fade. Marlana had been hoping for his sake that his sister would prove to be like that dream, only minus the demonic parts. But she'd been proven to be a money grubbing shrew. Lana privately thought much worse things than shrew, but she wasn't going to add to the misery in Alistair's eyes. She'd wanted the Goldanna of the dreams to be the reality, after all she'd grown up in a loving family, and she wanted Alistair to have a little taste of that, to find some measure of happiness from something that didn't involve constant battle.  
She'd meant it when she told him she didn't think he was an idiot, but that as she told him before he needed to start standing up for himself. All he did was shake his head at her and say he didn't want to talk about it anymore. Ruefully she admitted to herself that she hadn't made things any easier when she got pissed at how the woman was talking to her templar. This was part of the reason he hustled them out of the house as quickly as humanly possible, the other part was that he obviously couldn't take any more of the woman's shrewishness. When they finally arrived at the inn, Lana feeling a bit more out of breath from the trip than Alistair, he emotionlessly informed her that he wanted time alone, went to his room and very firmly closed the door.  
For a long moment she stood there staring at the door, wondering if it was more than just a physical door had been closed in her face. Since no one else was around, and she really didn't want to think of what Shale might be up to in Denerim on her own, she left a message with the innkeep for the others that she would be out for awhile. Oogie whined unhappily at being left at the inn alone, but she told him she wanted someone to be there for Alistair. Resigned the dog flopped down in front of the door, but brightened when she had a large bone with shreds of meat still on it to be brought to him. Marlana considered eating something herself, but decided better to work on an empty stomach.  
The past week had been an exercise of frustration at trying to meet with the elusive Brother Genetivi. His assistant, Weylon, kept coming up with excuse after excuse that the scholar couldn't meet with them. So she was going to exercise her version of feminine wiles and see if there's some way she can have a chat with Brother Genetivi on her own. It would be simple enough to break into his house and prowl around in the shadows before having that private talk. Sure enough, it's disgustingly easy to slip into the house, but there's something not right about the place. It feels too empty. And there's a faint scent of…carrion in the air. Frowning she slipped from the silent common rooms to the large bedroom in the back to see a body under a blanket on the floor.  
Having found the source of the carrion smell, she cautiously approached the body and carefully flipped the covering away from the face of the corpse. Granted it was starting to decompose pretty badly, but she could see the outline of the face didn't match the description of the scholar given to her by Isolde. As she considered the situation and before she could search the room, she heard the sounds of someone returning to the house.  
Easing back into the shadows, she eased the door open just enough to see that Weylon had return, but still no sign of Genetivi. Quietly she drew a long dagger, slipped through the narrow doorway, snuck up behind Weylon before slamming him to the wall with her blade under his chin. Her cold blue eyes met his dark ones full of fear and fury, "You're going to answer my questions, and depending on how I like them, you might live."  
Instead of answering her, he tried to cast a spell. She didn't need to be a templar to stop a mage from casting a spell. She brought a swift knee to the groin, then a dagger through a hand, pinning said hand to the wall so he couldn't make the necessary gestures to spellcast and he was just a man. "Now, as I was saying, I have some questions, and you are going to answer me."  
Weylon refuses to talk, ranting about blessed Andraste. Since Marlana is not cold enough to stoop to torture, at least not yet, she puts the madman out of his misery, and then went back to searching the house for information. It was in the bedroom that she finds a copy of the brother's research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes and how he came to the conclusion that it was in some tiny village called Haven. She groaned when she realized that they were going to have to go across all of Ferelden again. Even worse the town seemed to be not that far from Redcliffe. Not upset enough to be sloppy, she left the house the same silent way she had entered to return back to the inn. Marlana wondered how she was going to explain the information she'd obtained to the rest of her companions and unhappily decided that this was likely to even further widen the abrupt gulf between her and Alistair.  
Hunger drove Alistair out of his room shortly after the other Warden had left and he felt a moment of fear fueled anger at the thought of her out in the city on her own, without even Oogie to watch her back. The hound gave him sad eyes, clearly asking if they were going to go join his human, only the hound can't track her with all the scents of the city. So the warrior does the only thing he can do, eat and try not to brood too much.  
By the time she arrived, he'd worked himself up enough from brooding to full fledged anger that he starts yelling at her as soon as she comes back. "What in the Maker's name do you think you're doing? Wandering around the city on your own? You didn't even take your mabari with you, how could you do that him?" How could you do that to me? How could you just go without me? He asks in his mind. How could you put yourself in danger where I can't be there to be your shield?  
Her big blue eyes stared at him in shock, and all the time he's yelling at her, he's stomping across the room. Before she realizes what he's up to, Alistair has grabbed her by the shoulders and started to shake her. Not hard, but trying to get through to her the awful worry she'd put him through. "I…I honestly didn't think you'd notice. I'm sorry, Alistair, I truly am."  
Her words gutted him, and as he sucks in a deep breath to roar at her for thinking he wouldn't notice her absence, Morrigan's sarcastic voice interrupts, "My, what a pretty pair of lovebirds you are."  
Marlana sags a bit in Alistair's hands, and says tiredly since she's not really interested in fighting with both of them, "Enough Morrigan."  
The sorceress frowns at the two, her golden eyes asking a silent question of the smaller woman. Does he need to be dealt with? Mutely the other shakes her head. "As you wish then. If you need me, I shall be in my room. And Alistair, dear, please try not to shout down the inn, I'm sure twould be most distressful to our good innkeep should that happen."  
"Maybe we should talk somewhere more private?" She asks quietly, as she looks thoughtfully at the departing Morrigan who was no where near as venomous as she normally was where Alistair is involved. And that was just disturbing. But since there didn't seem to be any hew and cry going on outside, Morrigan apparently hadn't caused too much trouble.  
His mouth is still set in a tight angry line and his eyes are dark with fury, none of which has to do with Morrigan. "Yes, let's talk somewhere more private."  
They end up in his room, in the back of her mind she's surprised at how neat and tidy he has it, but she doesn't have time to think about that because he's yelling again, but not as loudly and keeping the width of the room between them. "Dammit, Marlana, there's bounties on your head, all it would take is one person to recognize you to have the guards come for you."  
She rubbed her mouth with one hand and debated telling him that one of the sergeants of the guard already recognized her and was keeping an eye out for her. She figured that it would better to tell him later, but she was resentful he thought she'd be caught that easily. "I'm not that easily caught when I'm running the shadows alone."  
He turns to stare at the fireplace, his back to her so she can't see his face even as she regrets the words as soon as they're out. Alistair's voice goes toneless, "So you'd rather go alone then?"  
"No! Maker's Breath, Alistair, I had to do something. And after getting the door shut in my face, I figured that you didn't want anything to do with me after that debacle this afternoon. So I figured I'd go out and be back before you came back out."  
When he does turn around, there's no more fury, but she can't read him at all. Torn between staying where she is and going to him, she decides to sit down figuring he's going to loom over her no matter what. Only she sits down on the bed because that's what is next to her and only as she sits she realizes just how bad of an idea that might be. But being stubborn and somewhat pissed off; she stays where she is, refusing to appear awkward at all.  
"So I did step in it then."  
She offered up a wry smile, "I think we both did."  
All of a sudden he's there before her, crouched down to look her in the eyes so he doesn't loom over her. Marlana still wasn't sure what was going on behind those brown eyes, but now they're more golden than black, when he speaks his voice is hoarse, "I love you so much, the thought of something happening to you without me to protect you is more than I can bear."  
Then he's kissing her before she can answer and it's so very different from that first kiss they shared as he buries his hands in her hair having it fall in a tumbled silver cascade about them both. Or like the others they've had since, there's nothing tentative, or restrained. The long deep kiss is full of hunger, want and need. He's still light and strength and now she has a name for that complicated thing, which should make it less complicated, but it's even more so not less. There's a depth to it now, solidity to the thought, as she tried to show him without words how much he means to her. But she can't say it, to say it is to doom him.  
But he doesn't seem to be looking for her to say anything as his lips slowly trail down from the corner of her mouth, down the side of her neck to the hollow of her throat. As that clever mouth does things to make her pulse race even faster, she finds herself on her back with him above her, and it's such a simple thing to simply reach out and touch.  
Almost on their own her hands run down his sides to tug his shirt loose before running them back up under the shirt, feeling the marvel of warm, almost velvet like, skin playing over hard muscle. Her fingers trace over the different scars that mark his torso like some sort of map, the worst are the ones she had to treat before they had Wynne, but she doesn't think of that now, not when he's kissing her again, his hands busy on the laces holding her shirt closed. It takes a bit for her to try to figure out how to get his shirt off of him when he doesn't seem to be paying attention, but he does seem to get the message as he pauses just long enough to pull the offending garment off and tosses it to the side.  
"Your turn," he rasps in her ear as his hands finally undo the last lacing and pulls her shirt up and over her head. They both laugh breathlessly as it tangles up in her hair, but they manage to free it without too much damage to hair or shirt, then they're together feeling skin to skin, but not quite because there's still some fabric between them…  
It's as his hands being to trace the edge of her breast band that they suddenly realize how far they've gone, but not as far as they could. Laying there with the solid weight of him partly on her, her legs twined with his so she very easily felt the interest he had in her, she looked up at him with huge blue eyes, dark with passion, but starting to think again. She watched as he swallowed and shook his head as he began to slowly ease off her, "I'm sorry, Lana I didn't mean for that to happen."  
"I'm not." Her lips curve up in a pleased smile, somewhat swollen from their kissing, and he realizes that while her mouth was meant for smiling, it was even better for kissing. Alistair jerked his mind away from that thought, he was having hard enough time keeping focused. Where's that vaunted templar discipline now, ass?  
"You certainly know how to kiss and make up after a fight", she's trying desperately to keep it light, as she tries to casually find her shirt. Alistair is very carefully not looking, not even a peak, as she finds her shirt then pulls it on and re-laces it. She can't help but grin as she lets him know it's safe to look again, she gets a rueful answering smile from the man then his eyes flick to her hair. Hesitantly she goes to try to smooth it out, but it's a true mess, "I, er, don't supposed you have a comb or brush or something."  
He laughs, it's a little weak and breathless, but it's a laugh and he doesn't seem as upset, "Me? Without a comb? As if." It doesn't take him long to dig out a wooden comb, Alistair hesitates just a moment, then sits back down on the bed and gently tugs her down to sit down next to him. He's proud that his hands trembles only the slightest as he begins to tentatively comb her hair out. Seeing the way it shimmered made him finally ask a question he'd wanted to ask ever since he met her, and now that she was relaxing under his hands, it seems as good a moment as any.  
"So, um. About your hair?"  
"What about it?"  
"It's absolutely lovely, but…I don't recall seeing this kind of color on anyone who didn't find some way of dying it. I know you, you aren't the type…"  
She actually giggled, "Ah well. You can blame Fergus, he got ahold of something when I was, hmm, eight. That's about right, it was an eventful year since that was the year I gave in to his dare about the lamppost."  
He feels a little dizzy, he remembered that conversation very well, she'd been out to try to make him blush and while she did, he'd gotten her to blush too. "Wait, you know, I didn't mean an actual lamppost when I asked you that."  
He doesn't have to see her face to know that she's grinning, "I know, but I figured taking you literally would make things more interesting. It was an actual lamppost in the middle of winter and mother was absolutely horrified. Father thought the whole thing amusing, outside of mother's earshot of course. Anyway, a few months before that, my brother had gotten a hold of something, what it was or where it he got it from he refused to say. He was also old enough to know better, but he dumped it on me for being a pain in the ass."  
For a brief moment, Alistair could sympathize with her lost brother, as much as he loved her, Marlana could be a pain in the ass. A big one, especially if she thought you weren't doing what you were supposed to. But she was continuing on, "So after I got thoroughly scrubbed within an inch of my life, all of my hair had fallen out. But at that point I was too sick to really care. When it started growing back, it came out the color you see it as."  
All sympathy is gone, even if Fergus hadn't meant to hurt her, that he dumped whatever was noxious enough on an eight year old… But he's careful not to tug on Lana's hair, since he knows that would let her know that he was thinking dark thoughts. He banished the dark thoughts, because the feel of her hair under his hands is soothing to him as well as his gentle combing is to her. The silence that falls between them is a comfortable thing, but soon he's done and decides that while combing her hair is one thing, tying it up is another.  
There's a flash of amusement in those sapphire eyes as she stoops to find the ribbon that had gotten thrown to floor. As she finishes putting her hair in a loose tail and starts to head for the door, she gives him a sly grin, "You know, swooping isn't always bad."  
Then she's out the door leaving him staring after her before the laughter starts.  
Dinner that night starts off with a great deal of excitement as everyone, except Alistair who already yelled at her, become very vocal about her wandering off on her own. She didn't wander, and she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself and why is it okay for everyone else to take off on their own?  
The words differ, but they all say the same thing, "You're the Grey Warden."  
While she may bristle at the implied slight towards her fellow Warden, he simply accepts it. He did have his chance to lead and didn't take it. Still didn't want it, but he was doing what he could take some of the burden off Marlana. And if ever this was the time to start, this was it, "All right, that's enough. You've all made your points. Time to let the lady say what's on her mind."  
Six heads swivel in his direction in astonishment, Oogie pants his approval for Alistair standing up for his almost-mate and Lana gives him a quick smile of gratitude. Then she's back to business and carefully explains what she found in Genetivi's home, the research, where it leads. At least she's not the only one annoyed by the fact they were only a week away from Haven when they were in Redcliffe as opposed to the two to three weeks, if not longer, in Denerim. Particularly with summer already half way through, it wasn't likely to be pleasant in the mountains by the time they got there.  
It wasn't terribly surprising that Morrigan and Sten both objected to what they called her mad plans. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to explain, again, why they were on this mad quest. "Since Teagan won't take over while Eamon is…ill, and I'm certainly not going to ask Isolde to do something", there were shudders around the table at that thought. "And because I realize that we do need his support in the war. I haven't met the man in a little over five years and I doubt he remembers me, but my father did speak well of him."  
There're quiet murmurs as people shift and consider her words. Morrigan frowns, but slowly nods. It had taken the witch some time to come to terms with the fact that the young woman was nobility and not just any nobility, but one of the most powerful families in the country. That she'd been allowed to wander around with three idiot males in Darkspawn filled Wilds when they first met had been incomprehensible to her. It was still incomprehensible to Morrigan that Lana didn't use the power of her family name to her advantage; it seemed as if she was trying to hide from it. The sorceress was slowly coming to accept that this was a part of Marlana, that while she would never understand the young woman, she was coming to like her, and felt a pang of guilt, which she dismissed.  
Marlana was more concerned with Sten's disgruntlement at that particular moment than the odd mix of emotions on the face of one of her oddest allies. She knew he was likely to try something soon, she just hoped it was when they were outside of Denerim and no innocent bystanders to get caught in the backlash. Finally she managed to direct everyone's attention to actually planning out the logistics of the trip. Once done, they all scatter to their rooms for some rest. Except for Alistair, who is the perfect gentleman by escorting her to her room. Their kiss goodnight is far from gentlemanly, but he doesn't accept her quiet invitation for the night. Instead he cups her cheek with one hand and smiles down into her eyes, "Soon enough, my dear."  
He quietly slips away leaving her wondering and wanting dammit. The bastard. But she smiles at the thought before seeking out her cold, empty bed.  
They spend another week in Denerim preparing. Most of it is to get supplies since they don't know what will be available once they're in the mountains, if only to make sure the two Wardens don't starve. A fact Alistair finds amusing and Marlana still mortified about. While waiting for everything to be prepared and delivered, Marlana takes on a few odd jobs to help the guard with some of the areas that have gotten overrun. Wynne, Leliana and Morrigan declined to help since seemed to have her own business going on in the city, but the others were glad for a chance for some action. Thankfully, Alistair seemed more amused than mad that she had made contact with the guard. She didn't mention to anyone, not even Zev, about some of the more shadowy work that she was doing.  
Lana was hard pressed not to laugh when even her companions were bringing back rumors of the "Dark Wolf" who was such a bane to the nobility. No one missed the fact that the nobles that were targeted were allies of Loghain and Howe. She'd been amused the first time Slim had told her of her new title. Truth be told she liked that much better than what others had called her, a wolf was a predator, a killer, which suited her more than things like my lady, Teyrna, hero. When those who remembered her bent for such shadow work looked at her speculatively she simply gave them an amused glance which told them nothing.  
Amongst her shopping for the coming expedition, she got dragged off into looking at clothes by Leliana. "I've got enough clothes, Leli."  
"Pfft, they're fine enough for when we're on the road, or meandering about the city. But you're an important person and you should have some nice things to wear for when you're meeting other important people."  
"My armor has been fine for that."  
"Oh Lana", the exasperation in the bard's voice makes the shorter woman grin. Then it's Leliana's turn to give a sly grin, "Besides, don't you want to dazzle Alistair at some point? Most men won't say it, but they appreciate it when their lady dresses up for them."  
She laughs wickedly as Marlana blushes brightly. Then she hooked her arm with Lana's, "Besides, it'll be fun. I bet you haven't had any fun girl time in ages."  
"I'm not what you would call all that girly, Leliana. Not even before the, er, current situation."  
"Ah, but you had girl friends, no? Did they not do female things for fun?"  
Marlana sighs as they head into the first shop and her mabari flat out refuses to enter, instead flopping to the ground outside the door, "They did, and I never really got the point of all that primping and preening. Besides the only vaguely female thing I learned to do well was sewing and I've ended up sewing Alistair's and Sten's hides more than clothing."  
Leliana simply shakes her head in mock despair.  
Hours later as they relax in the inn with cool sweet wine, Lana is forced to admit it had been fun in a way. And an experience she never wants to repeat, fortunately the bard seems to feel the same way. Oogie lies at her feet still traumatized after entering one shop and having a little girl trying to bedeck him with ribbons. However she did find one dress that not only complimented her slim figure and short height, but she actually liked it. A seemingly simple sheath dress, parts could be laced on or left off depending on the look she was going for. And she had spent more on those scraps of silk than she ever had all of her other clothing put together.  
Fortunately the rest of the time preparing goes the way Marlana expects it without any further impromptu shopping expeditions with Leliana. Or anyone else for that matter, thankfully. She's really quite tired of the market district. And the back alleys. Well, to be honest, most of Denerim.  
She doesn't expect Alistair to arrange for a private dinner at their inn before they're to leave for Haven. He has that mix of shy boy and intent man in the expression on his face as he asks her to dine with him alone before their long journey. She smilingly accepts the invitation, and her heart thumps at the delight in his eyes. And silently thanks Leli for pushing her into that horrid shopping trip.  
Looking down at the scraps of silk that are supposedly a dress she considers the message she wants to send to him. For the first time as a woman who is interested in a man, she wants actually cares about her appearance and what it might mean to him. So she carefully bathes and dresses, tries to do more than just tie up her hair, but not sure how successful she is. After carefully applying some light cosmetics to enhance her features, she debates on her blades. And with a giddy sense of … something she can't articulate, even to herself, she leaves the blades in her room. She wants dinner to be between Alistair and Lana, not templar and swordsman, or the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Just a man and a woman who are working towards building a relationship.  
The wonder in his eyes makes all the careful preparations worthwhile. For all that the sapphire silk falls demurely from neck to ankle, it hugs her form while flaring out enough to help add mystery. Without the sleeves her arms and shoulders are bare, revealing the hard, lean muscles of a swordfighter. Then its her turn to feel wonder, seeing him dressed in a dark brown doublet with gold accents with matching breeches, she smiles a little seeing him wearing his new finery with his very practical leather boots. At first during their meal they're a little awkward since neither is quite used to being dressed up in such a way, but soon they're relaxed and laughing together.  
When it finally winds down to dessert, Lana finds herself sitting next to Alistair. Or rather, she was tucked up against Alistair with one of his arms oh-so-casually draped over her shoulders. "So, you never did tell me what you did to get back at Fergus. I imagine between the hair and the lamppost, you would've gotten back at him somehow."  
She dimpled up at him, brilliant eyes glinting with wicked mischief, "Oh, well. I found a recipe to turn his hair purple with gold flecks for a week."  
"Just a week? I thought you would've gone for something longer."  
The smile that curves her lips is even more wicked than that glint in her eyes, "Oh, a week was enough. It was the week of his sixteenth birthday."  
His laughter fills the small room they're in, "Oh, you are a truly evil woman. That must be why I love you so much."  
She still can't say it, but she hopes the kiss she gives him in response tells him for her. Smiling, he pours the last of the wine in the bottle for them, then shifts so that she's settled against him. As Lana delicately sips her wine she considers the comfortable silence between them. It wasn't so long ago that he'd been quietly glaring at her full of resentment that she was alive when the other Wardens weren't and that she had tried to make him actually lead. Now she's snuggled up against him, drinking wine after a lovely meal and thinks that maybe life isn't as bad as she'd thought.  
Lightly he runs his fingers through her hair, toying with it nervously. She can feel him working up to one of those endearingly clumsy questions he's so good at. Not wanting to make him feel even nervier, she continues to remain quiet.  
"I don't know how to ask you this, particularly after what happened last week…"  
"I promise I won't bite", she smiled encouragingly up at him.  
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I was wondering…if you wanted to spend the night with me."  
She carefully shifted up so she could look up at him; he met her gaze steadily, but nervously. "Are you sure? I didn't mean to pressure you that day."  
Alistair gave her a look full of hope and fear, "I'm sure. I wanted the perfect time, the perfect place, but I realized there may never be a perfect time. If things were perfect we'd never have met, but I hoped I could make it…special. And I don't want to wait anymore. I've… never done it before. You know that. But…I want it to be with you…while we have the chance. In case…"  
She twisted around in his arms to cup his face in her hands; he absently wondered how such strong hands could still be so small and soft, her eyes dark with distress, "Don't talk like that. There'll be time later; I don't want you to feel that you have to do this because you feel rushed."  
He took her hands into his, lightly kissed the knuckles of each hand and looked steadily into her eyes, "Will there be time later? You don't know that. I don't know that. But just once I want to say that I was able to throw caution to the winds."  
Her dark gaze searched his face to make sure this was what he wanted that he wasn't doing it because he felt he had to. He nodded in earnest silence. She swallowed nervously and said softly, "I should be honest with you. I've never done it either." She laughed nervously, "The other day with you was probably the most I've been…intimate with anyone."  
She could feel his startlement, but he didn't say anything immediately, simply turned her hands over to drop a kiss into the palm of each hand. She shivered pleasantly at the surprising intimacy of the gesture as he spoke huskily, "Then let's learn together."  
He eased her away enough to get to his feet and pulled her up against him for a quick, fierce kiss. Smiling at her flustered expression, he slid a hand down her side, before wrapping it around her waist to hold her close as he lead her to his room, mainly because it was the closest to where they'd been eating.  
The door closing seemed to her ears a very final sound somehow as they regarded one another a little worriedly. They'd had the fire of their argument flowing in their blood that day when they'd almost gone where they were trying to go now. But now…there'd been romance and laughter in the meal, but nothing that set the blood aflame.  
She found herself standing before the fireplace clothed only in her long hair, he hadn't wanted her to see him undress and wondered if he'd actually watched her or not. She didn't turn around until she felt his hands on her shoulders. Very slowly, she turned around to look at him, knowing that he saw a woman who had more hard, lean muscle than the soft curves that attracted most men. There was only wonder in his eyes as he took in the sight of her naked form which encouraged her to look at him.  
Oh she'd seen him shirtless more than once, often when she ended up being the one to take care of the wounds he couldn't tend himself, but it was very different when the man was completely bare-skinned. When she saw his…maleness she frowned. She'd been told she'd know if a man was interested, but it looked rather painful.  
Her expression worried him, "What's wrong, love?"  
"You're…not hurt are you?"  
He followed her gaze and laughed breathlessly, "Maker's Breath, Lana. Where do you think of these things? No, I'm not hurt." He purred, "Let me show you just how not hurt I am."  
He placed a hand under her chin and directed her attention upwards back to his eyes, he saw the amazement in hers, but that was underlined by more than just nerves. He slowly skimmed the hand from her chin, down to her shoulder, then down her back as he slid his other hand from her midriff to her back. Then he was hugging her close, with her arms wrapped around his neck and both quivered at the feel of skin on skin. Pressed close like that, she couldn't think, couldn't remember any of the advice given to her from anyone from her dead best friend all the way to, Maker help her, Morrigan.  
Yet while she couldn't think, couldn't act, because her body was overwhelmed by sensation, and thus overwhelmed her mind, Alistair was free to act. She found herself swept up (or was that swooped?) in his arms and he was kissing her, or trying to since their coordination was a little off, as he carried her to the bed. Once stretched out side by side on the bed, things were easier, if only because she didn't have to worry about difficult things like standing while kissing him. Kisses turned to feathersoft strokes that turned into a mutual exploration with hands, lips and tongues.  
Then he was on top of her, asking if she was ready. Unable to speak, she nodded her assent. And that's when things changed for the worse.  
Instead of any type of pleasure there was an explosion of agony like she'd never experienced as he entered her. She'd been shot, stabbed, fried, frozen and electrocuted by magic. Even on one memorable occasion poisoned herself by drinking Darkspawn blood. None of it had prepared her for this kind of awful feeling of being ripped apart. She managed to gasp out, "Don't move!" before he had gone any farther. He froze, torn between staying where he was and withdrawing not wanting to hurt her anymore. So he did the only thing he could think of, stay as still as possible and delicately kiss the tears away.  
They both felt when her body finally adapted and relaxed. He still waited, mentally gritting his teeth because his instincts were yelling at him to get going, to make sure she was ready to go. There was more pain for her, but it slowly faded into something a bit more enjoyable. She felt more relief than anything else once it was over since she ached something fierce. She did enjoy cuddling with him though until he looked down and sucked in his breath in dismay.  
"Do you trust me?" And she wondered what kind of question that was. Of course she trusted him, she'd gone through that torture act and was still with him wasn't she? Not that she said any of that a loud, but simply nodded. Then he staggered from the bed, made his unsteady way to his pack, and dug something out before coming back to bed and stretching beside her again. Curious, she propped herself up to see what he was up to when she smelled the distinctive sharpness of a healing salve.  
"Wha-" Was all she could get out before his fingers were there, with something cold, but the salve soon warmed and soothed the horrible ripped apart feeling. Even once the salve had been used and did its work, his fingers continued their gentle stroking. He watched her face intently and soon that clever hand had her hips moving in rhythm with it. Then he found the right spot and all she could do was cry out his name in ecstasy as her back arched up and she pushed against him.  
A delightful languor spread through her and she started to smile up at him as he leaned down to gently kiss her. As she curled up against him as sleep claimed her, because she did trust him, and more. He held the warm sleeping woman in arms for what felt like hours before sleep claimed him, reveling in the feel of her against him, the scent and taste of her still. Alistair had been a little worried he wouldn't be able to walk like he had, but after seeing the pain he'd caused her, he had to do something. Before he complete that thought he fell asleep wrapped around the woman he loved.


	10. The Road To Haven

Waking before dawn as was customary for her, Marlana lay in the darkness with a feeling of confusion. She wasn't in her bed (and it wasn't her bed anymore anyway, just as home isn't home anymore), nor was it the bed of her room at the inn. She felt rested, truly rested, with no memory of nightmares haunting her restless sleep. She's also somewhat sore in places that normally had no business being sore. And why was there something, someone, at her back? She realized (with more than just a hint of fear) that she hasn't moved because of a well muscled arm holding her close. The someone is not familiar, yet is.  
Alistair.  
She flushes as she remembers the night before, feeling embarrassed even though she shouldn't be. He shifts again and she realizes he's awake as well, she hears a faint relieved murmur of real. Then his lips are just below her left ear, she can feel his smile as he softly says, "Good morning."  
Her own lips curl up in response, all fear and embarrassment gone in a rush of happiness, "It is, isn't it?"  
Without really thinking about it, she turns over in his arms to be able to see him in the slowly growing grey light of pre-dawn. He's more shadow than anything else, but she could see enough of that warm smile and the light in his eyes that was only for her. It's the light in his eyes that prompts her to kiss him, an action he returns eagerly, then sighs in frustration as first his stomach gurgles in hunger, then hers responds in turn, which only causes her to laugh, ruefully, "I don't think I'll ever get used to being hungry all the time. And I mean for food, Alistair", she added as he started to smirk at her.  
He gently ran his hand down her leg and chuckled quietly, causing her to raise her eyebrows. He grins at her, "Well, if the sisters in the Chantry were right, I should've been struck by lightning sometime last night."  
"That so?"  
"Mm hmm. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it. I'm a bad, bad man."  
She laughed and lightly kissed him, "Good, that's the way I like you."  
He grinned back, "And you are aware our little party is going to talk, right? They do that."  
Her grin faded and she got a fierce look in her eyes, "One comment and someone is getting fed to the Darkspawn."  
Alistair grinned even more, "And this is why I love you." Then he sobered, "So…where do we go from here?"  
Marlana studied him for a long moment, heart in her mouth, "I…I hope we can stay together. No matter what may come." Please Maker, let this not be a curse.  
He was quiet for a moment, watching her, considering her words and said slowly, "I think I can handle that."  
They could hear in the distance the sound of the kitchen help starting to prepare for the day, even though their party had been the only ones staying at the inn, between the two Wardens and Sten, they ate enough to keep the kitchen busy. "Before we have to face the evils of the day, I wanted to make sure I told you that I love you. I have, haven't I? Well, I'm going to say it again. I love you."  
Her heart shattered as she softly said, "I love you, too."  
They hugged one last time before getting out of bed, cleaning up before donning their arms and armor for the day. She'd been surprised at his foresight to have her gear stowed in his room and he laughed a little nervously, "It was presumptuous of me, but I'd made arrangements to have them brought down here. I'm not sure what I would've done if you had turned me down."  
"I'm sure you would've thought of something", she grinned as she settled her swords at her back.  
She was still getting used to her newest blade, named Starfang by its maker; it was forged from legendary star metal that they'd found in their travels. When they had helped the Drydens reclaim an old Warden base, she finally met a blacksmith that had the skills to forge the kind of blade she could use. It hadn't been forged to her specifically, but those who favored swords amongst her companions had taken one look at the weapon and flat out refused to touch it. But when she had picked it up with a huff at their nerves, something in the back of her mind said mine at her touch.  
Marlana still bore her family sword opposite Starfang.  
Finally geared, the two Wardens strolled out of his room, each bearing their packs, casting surreptitious looks for their companions and laughed together when they sighed with relief at being the first ones out in the common room. They were making short work of hot tea, fresh bread with cheese for him, butter and honey for her, while waiting for the rest of their breakfast when Wynne was the first one down. She cast a thoughtful look at the two of them and smiled warmly, "Good morning, you two. I trust you had a pleasant evening."  
She smiled benignly as the two of them both blushed, then poured herself some tea and managed to snag some bread before one or both of them devoured it. But she didn't need to fear, by that point two large bowls of porridge swimming in cream and honey, accompanied by eggs and bacon were deposited before the other two. Platters of food to be shared amongst the others were delivered in the center of the table, with how long they'd been there the help had a good idea on how much to serve them, even if the cook was slightly appalled how much food just two people could go through. The rest of the group trickled to the table, Marlana waited patiently for them to get their respective meals before going over the final details for the coming journey.  
Breakfast done, they gathered their things, went to the stables to ready the horses while Bodhan and his son arrived in the inn's courtyard with their wagon loaded with new wares. Marlana was pleased that the dwarven merchant still intended to travel with them, he'd been useful in not just the wares he'd provided at a reasonable cost, but in the contacts he'd been able to put her in touch with to get the supplies they needed. Not to mention that sometimes it was easier for a merchant to go into a place for information than someone else.  
Barney, the innkeep, seemed sad to see them leave as she settled their final charges, "I just hope we didn't scare off too much of your custom, ser."  
"Nah, you and yours were a right pleasure to have. Yours left m'girls alone, didn't cause any drunken ruckus, and m'wife had a challenge keeping you lot fed. You'll always be welcome at the Golden Sheaf, Warden."  
Bemused, she mounted up on her horse, while Alistair tried to wait patiently for her, before riding off to meet up with the others just outside of the city gates. Not wanting to draw more attention to her odd band, she had the others leave either singly or in pairs through the different gates out of the city. Marlana knew better than to try to get him to go on ahead of her, that was one argument she didn't care to repeat. Or to see the fear that was in his eyes when she had left him behind that day.  
For once the weather proved cooperative for most of the trip. Shortly after everyone had gotten back into the rhythm of being on the road again, Wynne edged her horse in by Marlana's. Hoping that this wasn't going to be another lecture on her relationship with Alistair, the Warden strived to be pleasant, "What can I do for your, Wynne?"  
The mage simply smiled, "Nothing. But I wanted to make sure you were all right."  
"Er, why wouldn't I be all right?"  
"Well, one couldn't help but notice there were some… interesting sounds coming out of Alistair's room last night."  
Oh Maker, this is like talking about sex with my grandmother of all people, Marlana thought as she tried not to flush with embarrassment, and why aren't there any Darkspawn around when you need them?  
"That so", she tried and barely achieved a bland tone.  
Wynne continued on, "I know that you and Alistair aren't exactly the most experi-"  
Somewhat desperately, "We are not having this conversation, at all. I've already had 'helpful' advice from pretty much everyone except Sten and Shale. Sten because he actually knows better than to try and Shale because she isn't a flesh creature so doesn't care about such things."  
The younger woman turned in her saddle feeling eyes staring through her back and saw Alistair giving her a silent plea for help where he was trapped by Leliana and Zevran on either side. "Shit. If you want to be helpful Wynne, you can go rescue Alistair. If I go over there, they're going to try and trap me also and I don't feel like fighting with anyone today."  
Wynne laughed softly and obliged.  
The journey was remarkably uneventful until they reached Bann Loren's lands. Lana for obvious reasons had wanted to avoid taking the main road through Highever lands and knew of a way through the less traveled woodlands of the unpredictable lord's lands. It was there they saw a man being harried by the Lord's soldiers. At first they were going to leave them be, until it was Zevran who made a comment about how unusually dressed the man was. Marlana recognized the man with a shock. Elric Maraigne had been one of the king's bodyguard, she had spoken with him a few times in Ostagar while she'd been wandering the camp before she'd been ready to take up her duties as a recruit. She could see the jolt of recognition in Alistair and the grimness in his expression told her that he too recognized the man.  
The two lead the charge as they usually did and with the rest of the group made short work of the soldiers. But it was too late for Elric. With his dying breath he told them of the key to the chest that contained not just Maric's sword and shield, but important correspondence. They paid what honor they could for the fallen man before returning to their original path. The three human survivors of Ostagar rode somberly for the rest of the day, wrapped up in dark memories.  
When Alistair and Marlana went to sleep that night, they made love with a quiet desperation to drive away their sorrows and memories.  
Haven is less than a day's journey away when they settle in camp for the night. Marlana wants her group to be rested for when they arrive, not sure how their arrival will be received by the locals. That there'd been no sign of Genetivi and the way that Weylon had acted made her suspicious. But she fully acknowledged she had been rather paranoid since she'd been forced to become a Warden. Since that paranoia had kept her alive thus far, she intended to continue listening to it.  
Sten had apparently decided he didn't like how she was doing things. Why he waited until they were almost at their destination to challenge her, she didn't understand. As he confronted her again about her fool quest, she calmly explained her rationale again. Very, very calmly, her eyes like ice. As the others began to slowly gather to see what they could do to stop the impending violence, she waved them off. Since the stubborn Qunari wouldn't listen to reason, she would just have to beat it into his thick skull.  
Marlana simply waited, hands down at her sides as the man became increasingly angry. Then he drew his blade and ran towards her. Calmly she sidestepped him with her almost unnatural speed before lashing out with a booted foot in a sidekick to the knee. He staggered, but didn't fall, she flowed out of his way again, using that movement as a pivot to snap out another vicious kick to the groin, which didn't have the impact it normally would have due to his armor, but it did stun him for a brief moment. Only then did she draw her blades.  
She didn't use any of the fancy moves that were her usual style; instead she just used fast, hard, hammer blows to keep him off balance. The blades blurred and Starfang seemed to hum in her hand as she continually kept him on the defensive. Finally tired of the lesson, she swatted away his blade and drove both of hers into him in a precisely calculated move to do the most pain without hitting anything vital. He fell to his knees before her gasping, "I yield. I will follow your orders; you are clearly strong enough to lead."  
Those cold blue eyes stared down at him as his blood flowed down her swords into little puddles and considered him. Finally she jerked her head, "Do as you will then. Wynne, go ahead and patch him up."  
She resisted the urge to vanish into the shadows; instead she remained in camp calmly cleaning her weapons giving no sign of her thoughts. The vicious anger that had risen up in her soul at Sten's prodding frightened her. Marlana didn't like how she had reacted and mulled over her actions. Reluctantly she came to the conclusion that was the only way she could get Sten to respect her authority was to beat him the way she did and she did that instinctively. Amazingly Alistair and Morrigan were in total agreement about just killing the Qunari for his actions, while the others wanted him sent away.  
"He can stay if he wishes, I still need his blade against the Darkspawn in the days to come. Besides, having his challenges makes me think everything through."  
She tried to ignore the hurt look in Alistair's eyes and understood why he slept in his bedroll away from her tent that night. At least, until she got up in the middle of the night to check on the camp to find him asleep outside of her tent with his sword beside him. After making her nightly rounds, and her nightly annoyance of Shale, Marlana prodded Alistair awake enough to spend the rest of the night in the tent with her.  
The morning came cold and clear with a hint of an early snow in the air. She pulled on her heavy cloak over her armor, making sure that she could draw her swords easily just in case. For once her constant hunger wasn't gnawing at her, so she simply had hot tea while waiting for the others to get prepared. After considering the situation, she decided to take a small group so to as to hopefully not get the locals riled up. Since Zevran and Morrigan seemed disinclined to move away from the warm campfires and Sten was still sulking, she took her usual troublemakers with her since she wasn't sure how the locals would react to Shale. Or Shale to the locals, there'd been a couple of tense moments with Shale and villagers.  
Marlana decided if they didn't actually find the Urn, they were going to return to Redcliffe where she was going to shake some sense into Teagan to get the man to do what he should have done in the first place. Truly lead Redcliffe during the time of his brother's illness, rather than waste time with nursery tales.


	11. What I've Done

At first the massive door set into the crumbling wall seemed like any other ruin that dotted the landscape. Yet, Marlana found herself reluctant to enter, but not out of fear. Or rather she wasn't afraid of what she would find in there, she was afraid of desecrating something holy. Beside and behind her the others are just as silent, studying the place in their own way. Wynne seems content to make mental notes of the place while Leliana is probably composing another song. Even Alistair seems subdued. She cast a worried eye on her lover who is frowning at the door thoughtfully, but showing no signs of distress from his wounds.  
Fighting a high dragon may sound glorious in ballads, but in reality it's ugly, disgusting work. As usual Alistair had taken the brunt of the beast's wrath as the others did what they could to bring it down quickly. Once Leliana's arrows had shredded the dragon's wings enough to ground it, but that made it no less dangerous since it still had used of its fangs, claws and tail. Not to mention its fire. No one was going to forget that little experience of being roasted by dragonbreath. Marlana had finally managed to finish the creature by running up its back and sinking her blades into its eyes. She'd had a really bad moment of flying in midair when it managed to toss its head and the slim woman into the air. Fortunately she managed to land back on the head, close enough to grab the hilts of her swords then shoving the blades into the brain of the thing.  
She shook herself out of her reverie, procrastinating wasn't going to get them to the Urn. Despite insane villagers, cultists and dragons (Between the dragonlings in the Tower and the monsters in the caverns, she'd had her fill of dragons. Except there still was that overgrown, Tainted one flying around that they had to deal with yet. And won't that be fun?) they had made their way here. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a puff of steam in the cold mountain air, she spoke as she reached out to the door with her gloved right hand, "Right, let's do this."  
The door opened slowly in a silent welcome before she could even touch it. Refusing to let herself feel unnerved, the Warden strode into an ancient hall lit by torches that had no fuel for their flames. While the hall had clearly seen better days there was still an air of majesty to it. At the end stood a figure in plain heavy chain made of silverite, at its back rose the well worn hilt of a massive two handed weapon. As she approached, she could see that it was a man with a careworn face whose eyes had seen all too much of the world, yet seemed apart from it.  
"Welcome pilgrim, I am the Guardian of the Urn of Sacred Ashes", his deep voice sounded as if it came from something other than a human mouth and resonated with power. Hoping not to fight this man, if man he truly was, she bowed slightly to him and greeted him pleasantly. At first she was surprised that he was willing to speak with them and answer their questions. As the conversation progressed, Lana realized he must have been horribly alone all these long centuries.  
The Guardian regarded the little group before him thoughtfully, "Before you are allowed to proceed, you must prove yourself worthy."  
She nodded, "And how must I do that?"  
"You must go through the Gauntlet; the tests there shall prove your worthiness."  
"Very well, let it begin", she mentally braced herself, she had no desire to battle anything in this place, but if she had to, she would. Marlana had set herself on this course of action and continue until she was successful or she finally found her end.  
The Guardian nodded, "Before you go, there is a thing I must ask. I see that your path here was not easy, full of suffering, both yours and others."  
Dread filled her as those ancient eyes regarded her heart and soul and knew she was already deemed not worthy. Unable to speak, she waited.  
He continued relentless, "You abandoned your parents, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing there would be no mercy for them. Do you think you failed your parents?"  
Grief crushed her once again as she remembered that terrible night. Seeing her father in the pool of his own blood, her mother cradling him to her breast swearing to remain with him until the end… The feel of Duncan's hand on her shoulder as he dragged her away from them to a fate she didn't want.  
Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed with defeat as she whispered, "Not think, I know. I should have defended them to the end."  
As the others started to protest, she raised her hand asking for their silence.  
Calmly the Guardian spoke again, "Thank you. That is all I wished to know."  
He turned that unnerving gaze on the others with Alistair to be the next victim after her. Before the ancient being that was once a man said anything, her protective instincts pulled her out of her anguished grief. "NO! No, you will not do this to them. They follow my lead, if someone is to pay the price, I will. Not them."  
Silence reigned in that place as she stared the Guardian in his too knowing eyes, willing to have her scars ripped open again, but she would not stand there and let him shred those she cared about. Bad enough she had damned Alistair by telling him that she loved him the first night they were together and every night after. Bad enough she had damned Wynne by accepting the healer's offer of aid. Bad enough she had damned Leliana by dragging her out of the Chantry. But she would not let this happen.  
If he could read her mind, the Guardian gave no sign; he simply nodded and stepped to the side. The door behind him opened, "You may proceed."  
Not wanting to talk about how her soul had been exposed to her companions, silently she was grateful that it was just these three who were present. Eventually she would have to talk to them about what was said, but not now, not when those emotional wounds were just reopened with callous disregard. With her heart heavy she proceeded to deal with more spirits.  
Spirits with riddles that spoke of hope and despair, dreams and songs of home, of vengeance and mercy, love and jealousy, life and death, what hunger could do… Oh they may have been talking about Andraste, but didn't they also speak of her own hopes and fears? The questions had been simple enough for the group to answer, but the simplicity had been deceiving.  
Feeling even more unsettled she started to go through the next door that had opened on its own leading to another part of the hall. Another figure stood at the end of the short hall with his back to them, but she knew the form all too well. Hadn't she seen him stand like that so many times when lecturing Fergus and her on their duties? When he addressed his men for whatever task he was going to set them? She thought her heart had shattered when she told Alistair she loved him.  
But no, it hadn't. Now it did, and not just her heart, her whole being. She'd seen a crystal chalice dropped on a stone floor once, it had shattered into so many small, twinkling little pieces, most of it almost dust. She knew what it was like then for that chalice as it felt like she was shattering into dust. Yet somehow she still lived for all that her chest ached so much and the blood was draining from her head.  
They'd never seen her falter before, never saw that iron will waiver, never thought this formidable young woman could ever be truly stopped. But she had stopped and they saw her resolve die. Alistair started to reach out for her out of concern when she ran towards the new spirit.  
She stopped just shy as the man turned around, before she said anything, Alistair knew who it was and cursed those that created this place with a hate that only matched what he felt for Loghain and for a brief moment eclipsed even that. To see all color drained from her skin, the complete and utter despair made him hate. Then he heard her anguished whisper confirming his thoughts.  
"Father?"  
But even he could see the pride and love in the eyes of a man he'd never known in life, the sorrow and pain of what his daughter had gone through, what still lay before her. And that hate drained away.  
She couldn't register what her father said; the blood was pounding too much in her ears as she looked into that beloved face for some sign of forgiveness. But there wasn't, there was a cold sternness she'd never had directed at her, no matter how badly she'd acted when a child. And such terrible disappointment. Numbly she accepted the locket he handed to her. Hesitantly she looked up into the blue eyes that had once been so like her own, but now nothing alike. She mustered her ragged courage to ask one last question, "Can you forgive me?"  
"There's nothing to forgive, pup."  
The sorrow in his voice and the obvious love there made her companions wonder why she flinched as if he'd struck her instead. Then he was gone. She stood there head bowed for a moment, too empty, too numb, to allow herself tears. She didn't deserve the release, so she finally got the answer to her whispered prayer uttered in the Wilds. There could never be forgiveness.  
Marlana straightened and squared her shoulders not looking back, not seeing the concern in the eyes of Leliana and Wynne, the grief Alistair had for her. In a voice colder than the mountain winds outside, "Let's go, we aren't done yet."  
In the next chamber where they fought spectral images of themselves, she fought her own image with a terrible savagery full of hate. She almost couldn't help with the images of the mage and bard, but she managed. Then there was only Alistair's left. She couldn't fight it, could barely defend herself against it, almost willing to have it strike her down. Afterwards they tried talking to her, but she wouldn't answer, couldn't let herself to respond to their worry or Alistair's attempt to wrap her up in a hug. She didn't deserve it, especially him. (There's nothing to forgive.)  
The next chamber held no battle, but a gaping chasm surrounded by odd stones. Alistair studied one and stepped on it, making some silly comment about "thingies". Once she would've laughed at his comment, and smiled at Leliana's exasperation to him stepping on the "thingy". But there was no more laughter, only broken crystalline dust dulling into ash. It took awhile, yet they eventually figured out the trick of making a solid bridge.  
A test of faith. Not willing to let the others to risk themselves still, she was the one who braved that insubstantial bridge. She had all the faith in the world in her friends, her once lover, but none in herself. She wasn't going to risk them, wasn't going to fail them. Then there's a solid bridge as she passes over the last piece and watches with deadened eyes as they cross one by one. Then they came to their final challenge, passing through a wall of flame.  
There's some murmured comments about how much of their clothing and armor they need to strip off. As they debate, she stripped down to nothing, all three having seen her in that state for one reason or another then walking into the fire. She hoped for pain, for the sizzle of cooking flesh, to be found unworthy and struck down for her impertinence.  
Instead the Guardian appeared and pronounced her worthy of the Ashes.  
Worthy? How could she be worthy of such a sacred relic? She wasn't worthy of her father's forgiveness, yet the Maker would let her defile the mortal remains of his Beloved? But this quest is for another person after all, one who is better than she is. Mechanically she redressed and slowly went up the steps to the Urn. It was deceptively simple, a large stone urn with stylized depictions of flames. Still expecting to be struck down, she removed her gloves, shoved them into her belt and reverently lifted the top then delicately set it to the side. Her hands shaking, she carefully reached in to take the small pinch that she'd been deemed worthy to receive and placed them into the vial she'd had cleansed and blessed in the Denerim Chantry so long ago. The vial went into a padded pouch that in turn was carefully tucked away.  
Listlessly she made her way back to the temple they'd left Brother Genitivi, the scholar they'd spent so much time trying to find. By some miracle he'd been left alive by the insane cultists that made Haven their home, when so many others had perished at their hands. He was still at the front of the ruined temple where they'd left him the day before. The man was clearly enraptured by what he'd seen thus far, even more so when shown the vial containing the Ashes. She leaves a bulk of the conversation to the others, not having the energy for such things.  
She doesn't remember the return trip to camp. Doesn't pay attention to the sharp voices of her companions as they argue about something, there's not enough left to care anymore. She does her share of the camp duties more out of habit than anything else. She spends the cold night out on her bedroll alone rather than curse Alistair anymore than she already has. Not even Morrigan's sharp tongue can get through her apathy the next morning, unaware that even the witch had been moved by the agony in the eyes of Morrigan's nemesis.  
The morning they prepare to return to Redcliffe dawns clear, bright and cold. She has to be reminded to wear cloak and gloves before getting on her horse. She didn't pay attention to Oogie's repeated attempts for attention, or the disgusting thing he tries to give her as a gift. Worried he turns to his human's mate who is clearly hurt and angry, but doesn't have any answers for the upset hound.  
Better this way, she thinks as she feels them withdrawing from her out of disgust. Now I can't fail them the way I failed everyone else I loved.  
Finally they're at Redcliffe. Teagan takes one look at the dull eyed woman who had once been such a vibrant force that saved his brother's people and drags Alistair off as Isolde oversees the preparations for her husband's healing.  
"What's happened to her?"  
The templar shakes his dark golden head, "I really don't know, my lord. Marlana's been like that since…since we were faced by her father's spirit. I don't know why, he clearly loved her, but she's acting like he thought she was the scum of the earth."  
The lord's expression is grave, "She paid a high price then."  
Restless and sick with worry, Alistair starts pacing, "I think we were all supposed to share that price, but she wouldn't let us. And the guardians of the place let her."  
Before they could talk any further, they're called in for the miracle that had been so hard won.  
After Eamon has reassured himself that his wife and son are alive and well, the questions begin. Marlana managed to rouse herself enough to contribute to the conversation, but it's clear even to the man who didn't know her that there was something wrong with the Grey Warden that had shouldered so much of the burden. He dismissed the group wanting some time to be with his family and to think over everything he'd been told. Not just the Blight, but the treachery on the part of Loghain and Howe. The death of his nephew and king.  
They're given guest rooms and once she would've been pleased to be roomed right next to Alistair, but now she sees it as one more burden, since he still wouldn't pull away no matter how hard she tried to push him away. When she comes out of her room dressed in the shirt and trousers that normally distress Leliana so much, she's as grateful as she can be that Alistair is off somewhere else. For that matter, she's glad that the rest of her companions had wandered off elsewhere, including Oogie who had gone off somewhere on his own unknowable canine purpose.  
She wandered the halls aimlessly until she came out to the parapets, there was a guard nearby, but he ignored her as she settled down to regard the sun as it set in all of its bloody glory. Lost in pain filled memories she grows used to the sound of the rattle of the guard's armor as he makes his patrol. Then there's the low sound of voices and a different footstep taking the guard's place. Figuring that it was just another guard, she doesn't expect to be grabbed from behind.  
Unarmed and unarmored, she still reacts instinctively to fight back, but stops when she sees who she's about to hit. His handsome face grimmer than she's seen before and his eyes dark with something that can't be called fury, Alistair glares down at her, "Maker knows I've been patient. But. What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. You?"  
She whispers, "You were there, you heard what F-f-father said."  
"He said…" He stopped and felt sick, "Lana, he said there was nothing to forgive. But he meant it, he wasn't mad at you. I didn't know him and I could see how much he loved you."  
Lana stared up at him not understanding what he said. Or rather not wanting to. There can never be forgiveness, how can there be? Father, mother, Oriana, Oren, Gwen, Fergus, all dead, dead because I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, smart enough.  
She thought she said that in her head, but the way his gaze sharpened at her, she realized she'd actually said that out aloud. He was quiet for a moment, "I think it's time we finally talked about you. You've been my anchor and my shelter when I needed it, now let me be yours."  
Despite herself, she started shaking, "No, Alistair, go, please. It's better that…just go."  
"Only if you can look me into the eyes and tell me that you don't love me."  
Now the tears come despite her resolve. She looks away and rasps, "I can't, because that would be a lie. But Alistair I don't have the strength, not anymore if I ever had it."  
"The strength for what?" He still wouldn't let her go, knew if he did the woman he'd fallen for would be gone.  
She licked lips gone suddenly, horribly dry, "To survive failing you like I failed everyone else."  
"Failed… Maker's Breath! Marlana Cousland look at me."  
It took what little was left of her to listen to his command. She was so tired, why wouldn't he just let her go? There was enough left to see to her duty as a Warden to end the Blight, why did he think there was anything else? She'd fooled herself, and him, but in that temple she'd realized that it wasn't her loved ones that would be her doom. She really was the curse of those she loved. The intense glare he gave her made her shrink in on herself and he tried desperately not to squeeze her tighter. This broken person wasn't the Marlana he knew. And he would fight to bring her back. Even if it meant fighting her.  
"You didn't fail them; your family was betrayed by a man they trusted. Duncan wouldn't have recruited you if you were the type to fail those who depend on you. And we're taking this conversation somewhere else."  
He scooped her up, and then hauled her back down to the guest quarters, not caring who saw one Warden manhandling the other. For a brief moment he thought he was going to drop her when he had to juggle semi-resisting female and the door to her room, but he managed to open the door and not drop her. He sat down at one of the large chairs at the fireplace still holding her, but at that point she'd given up the fight as a lost cause.  
"Talk to me, love. Please."  
Dammit, she managed to stop the tears during that humiliating trip back to her room. But they started up again, this time even worse and this time she can't stop them. Slowly, haltingly, she started with that one horrible night of blood and fire. Finding her sister by marriage and her nephew butchered in the rooms that were only across the hall from her bedroom. She should've been able to hear their screams or the door being broken down.  
That her mother chose to die with her father rather than live with her, Duncan having to forcibly pull her away from her parents. The mad flight from what was no longer her home.  
Her breath hitched tight in her chest as she tried to describe their flight from the castle.  
"We-we stopped at Faolain Keep, the family of my best friend Gwendolyn. Sh-she'd only been married for a couple of years and was expecting her first. I-I found her. She was barely alive," the tears came down harder, the little she could see of the world blurred even more, but she felt him hold her tighter. "They, they, they," She shook her head again at the remembered horror, "They'd ripped her child from her, but she was still alive. And she begged me for mercy."  
She couldn't tell him how she held her dying heart-sister's broken body in her arms as the life bled out of the other young woman. But the memory broke open the last of her pain causing her to finally bury her face into his broad chest and weep out all of the agony that had been building all this time. Alistair held her close as he rocked her, silently offering her his strength the way Lana had been for him during his moments of grief over the loss of Duncan and the other Wardens.  
When the tears finally dried up and she looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes he could see the glimmers of the woman he knew and loved and had an idea he hoped would help bring her back. If not, it should be entertaining to see people come running to see what was going on.  
"Will you let me prove something to you?"  
Confused, she nodded, starting to feel enough of herself to wonder what he was up to. The hint of curiosity heartened him and he eased her off his lap and into the opposite seat. "Stay right there until I tell you otherwise."  
Baffled she watched him leave her room making sure the door was fully closed, then didn't hear anything except a couple of faint thuds and something fainter, but indistinct, from his room. Then he came back into her room slightly flushed and out of breath, "So, did you hear that?"  
"Hear what?"  
"Well, you can agree that I can scream pretty loudly if I want to."  
She stared him, "Yessss, yes you can."  
"Lana, I just screamed as loudly as I could and threw a chair. Did you hear anything?'  
She stared at him still, more than slightly appalled, "You didn't."  
He gave her that boyish grin of Alistair at his worst as his only answer.  
"I heard some muffled thuds; it sounded like you dropped something."  
"Would you say that our rooms are closer than your room was to your brother's rooms in your family's home?"  
Realizing what he was trying to prove, she finally found a weak laugh, granted it was more than a bit water, but she laughed and smiled a little up at him, "I love you, you big goof."  
His grin only got wider as he crossed the room and wrapped her up in his arms, but his voice was serious. "I love you too. Don't bottle things up, if you talk to me, we can always figure things out. For a smart woman, you sure can not think very sometimes." He wasn't going to call her stupid, not now, not when she was still hurting.  
"Now then, let's get you cleaned up and go eat. I'm starving and you probably even more so."  
"Is that all you can think of? Your stomach?"  
"Weellll, there is something else, but that can wait for later."  
She shook her head, but she was smiling when she did it. Knowing she'd still be haunted by her losses, he'd be there for her, but he could see his Marlana coming back to him and at that moment he decided he did some good work.


	12. Promises Made

Marlana watched Alistair pacing back and forth in her guest room with concern. There were decisions to be made that had options neither of them liked. Quietly she asked, "Alistair, are you sure you're willing to do this? If you can't agree to do it wholeheartedly, we'll find some other way."  
He sneered, "And what of the vaunted Cousland insistence on duty first?"  
She flinched, but answered him steadily, "This is different. I was raised with the privilege as well as the responsibility of power. They shit on you all your life Alistair and now that there is no one else they can use, they'll use you. I say this as a Cousland, as a Warden, not just your friend and lover; this is not a burden you must take up. But if you do take it up, you know I will see to it that it's done."  
They regarded one another in silence; there was no demand on her part, just her quiet acceptance of whatever decision he made as they both remembered their recent conversation with Arl Eamon.  
"I cannot lay claim to the throne since my claim is through marriage, which is no better than Loghain's. There is someone else however…"  
Her voice had been cold, "You can't be making the suggestion I think you are."  
"I am. Alistair is Maric's son, as such his claim is by blood, stronger by far than Anora's claim, Loghain's, or even mine. He is the last of his line, this is his duty."  
"No! Absolutely not! You've made it clear all my life I'm just a commoner with no claim on the throne. Furthermore it's something I never wanted", Alistair looked angry and scared. The young noblewoman understood where he was coming from, and that cold, terrible gaze settled on Eamon.  
"With Cailan's death, things have changed, Alistair. Without you, I'd have to support Loghain to prevent the country tearing itself apart as every bann and arl who thinks they have a claim try to make it." He was careful not to mention that there had been many who considered making Bryce king instead of Cailan, only the teyrn had refused. Marlana was not the biddable girl he thought she was when he had last met her two years before and he didn't want to consider what the effects of someone like her on the throne would be.  
Alistair scowled at his adopted uncle, but instead of the expected outburst, said, "I need to think this over." Marlana had silently followed him out of the room without looking back as he angrily stalked off.  
He ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up in small dark blonde spikes that glowed golden in the light of the fire. "But if I don't make my claim, that leaves Loghain. Or worse."  
"Anora could still rule, she is Cailan's widow, her claim is just as strong."  
"Yes, and we've seen where that's led. You don't honestly believe she'd just kick her father off the throne do you? If she was going to do, she'd've done it by now."  
The silver-white mane bowed as she sighed, "You're right. I forget most people aren't the cold-hearted bitch that I am."  
He stared at her. She looked back up, grief and icy determination only made her eyes a brilliant blue, "I am. My father would never have survived if he'd done what Loghain did."  
"Your father would never have done what Loghain did. And would probably be rallying troops to bring him down if he had lived."  
Her eyes shadowed with more sorrow, "You're right, and we're getting sidetracked by what ifs. For what it's worth, I think you would be a fine king. If only because you don't want the power and you do care about what you'd do with it. But it's your life; I'll back you with everything I am with what you chose."  
Alistair started pacing restlessly again, then stopped looking at her with a troubled gaze, "If I go with this mad scheme of Eamon's…I go for Mar…my father's throne, you meant what you said? You'd back me?"  
She didn't try to hide the hurt his words caused, "I gave you my word. But I'll speak plainly."  
Marlana stood up and walked over to her fellow Warden and though she had to tilt her head back to look up into his eyes, she spoke with all the fierceness in her heart and soul, "I swear to you, Alistair Theirin, that no matter what may fall between us, as long as it remains in my power I will always be there for you. As friend, lover, or Warden." Or more, she silently promised, if you would have me.  
With a sigh he wrapped his arms around her for comfort and buried his face in her hair as she held him tightly, "Then I'll do it. As long as I have you by my side, I'll make the bid for the throne. Maker help us all."  
Muffled, "He won't need to, you've got me."  
He laughed, "Yes that I do. All right, let's go tell Eamon, then let's find a stiff drink."  
Eamon studied the two Wardens thoughtfully as they met with him in his study to inform him of Alistair's decision, Marlana in particular. "So you're giving your blessing in this then?"  
The arl's question clearly startled her, "Why would my blessing matter?"  
"I suspect in the days to come your voice is going to be an important one. You're not just one of the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, you're also -"  
"My father's daughter, yes, I know. I'm also aware of how this may look." The coolly calm voice made Eamon shiver despite himself. Teagan had warned him, as did Alistair, that he would need to deal with her very carefully. Now he understood why Isolde was so terrified of this young woman.  
"Yes, many would see it that you're putting a Warden on a throne."  
"Then let them see the last of the Couslands supporting the last of the Theirins as my family has always done since the time of the Silver Knight."  
She'd chosen her words carefully knowing the impact they would have and a reminder of where she came from. Eamon nodded slowly, oh yes, she truly was Bryce's daughter. Most had only seen the genial side of the now deceased teyrn's nature, but there'd been times he'd seen that glint before he pulled something off on an unsuspecting rival. This intense young woman had gone through more in the past four months than many had in the rebellion against Orlais. While he hadn't fought much on the side of her family, he suspected that those that had fought beside her father and her grandfather would recognize what was sitting before him. A Cousland at war. That the war would be against one of the greatest heroes of her country was a terrible thing that anyone should face. That she was the daughter of another hero of their land…  
He realized they were both waiting for a response from him, "It'll take some time to organize the Landsmeet since winter is coming on. What are your plans?"  
"Before the snows make it impassable, there are two promises I need to keep down in the south." He wondered if he should ask, but at Alistair's sharp look at Marlana, he decided it'd be best not to.  
She continued on without seeming to notice her fellow Warden's expression, but the arl figured her answer would be in private, "After that, we're going to Orzammar for our treaty with the dwarves; I don't exactly fancy trying to track down the Dalish in the middle of winter."  
As much as he wanted to offer them the opportunity to stay for the winter, he knew the Blight wouldn't wait, even if the Darkspawn would be slowed by heavy snow.  
"If there is anything I can do, let me know. Don't be afraid to ask my seneschal for organizing supplies."  
Marlana actually laughed, and Eamon was struck that this was the first time he'd ever seen her truly smile. Even when he'd been at her debutante ball two years ago, her smiles had been coolly polite, but there'd been none of the…dazzle that was there in her true smile. He could see why Alistair was taken with her now. "Oh, your poor seneschal the last time Teagan set him to that task the last time."  
He chuckled, "It'll do him good."  
The two politely left, before the door closed he could see the look that passed between the two young people. He remembered when he and Isolde had been younger and their love was still new. At first he'd been concerned about her influence on Alistair, while some part of him regretted that the young prince wasn't likely to look to him for guidance the way he once had, this might be for the best. Though he didn't know Marlana well, he knew she would help Alistair be the man and king he should be.  
"So you're going to help Morrigan after all."  
They had returned to her room for that stiff drink, though Alistair had barely touched the brandy the two had agreed on. She took a sip from her snifter and nodded, "Yes, she hasn't asked sense, but every so often when she thinks no one is paying attention she has this…haunted look."  
He nodded, "I haven't forgotten my promise to you. And even if I didn't promise before, I'd still help. You'll need my skills to deal with her."  
Of course, he may not have taken full vows, but he'd been training to be a templar for so long… And Flemeth was definitely the type of apostate they'd hunt. Had hunted according to Morrigan, and not very well either considering that the two were still alive and the templars weren't. Not that she'd tell Alistair, she didn't want even more issues between the two.  
"Thank you."  
He smiled, "Anytime, my love. You said that there was another promise?"  
"To Elric. In remembrance and as a reminder of our fallen."  
Now he took a long swallow of the brandy, "Yes, I would like that."


	13. Promises Kept

She stood over the body of the dragon and felt something akin to regret. That Flemeth had actually shapeshifted into one was beyond creepy and almost past disturbing. As well as being a moment of pure and utter shock. Fortunately, after all the constant battles they'd been in, their reflexes had saved the group from getting turned into crispy critters when she spat out a ball of fire.  
Oddly enough, while it seemed the apostate had the power of a high dragon, it was almost as if she didn't know how to fight as one. The battle had been difficult, but nothing like dealing with a real dragon. Marlana glanced over to where Wynne was tending the wounded and was very grateful that Flemeth hadn't tried to eat Alistair the way the high dragon did. Probably because his armor tasted as bad as it smelled after their trek through the swamps earlier to get to the hut.  
Marlana surveyed the area, the hut appeared to be the same as it had been and at first glance the same with the land. But she could see the cattails and other water plants didn't look right. Not because of the coming winter, but the odd discolored splotches on their stems and leaves. The few animals they'd seen on their way here made her glad they weren't expecting to live off the land and brought enough supplies accordingly. She and Alistair could probably eat the meat without getting sick, but she couldn't risk the others. As it was she had concerns that they had enough feed for the horses. The grass at their current campsite was still healthy enough, but the further they went, the more twisted it became.  
But that was for later, for now she had more immediate concerns. Satisfied that her friends were going to be fine and not seeing any other nearby threats, Marlana carefully entered the small cottage. And froze at what she discovered.  
Flemeth had left out the grimoire on a small table a small distance from the door the way one would leave an offering.  
Slowly, carefully, she approached the table, not trusting what she saw. Methodically she checked for any unpleasant surprises, but the table was just a table. The grimoire looked like a book, and while the leather covering had an odd texture and scent to it, yet nothing happened when she picked it up. Still suspicious, she slowly prowled around the single room, checking for any likely hiding places, but there was nothing else. No personal possessions, or even any signs that someone lived here in some time. Aside from the addition of the table, the room was as she remembered from the one and only time she'd been here.  
It felt as if Flemeth had come here for the sole purpose of meeting her and the others. Be honest with yourself, she thought, Flemeth was expecting you and didn't care about the fact you had others with you. And the old woman knew you wouldn't accept her offer of just taking the grimoire and leaving. She seemed pleased that you considered her a threat to Morrigan and acting upon your promise that you wouldn't allow any harm come to her daughter.  
Unsettled, she left the hut with the grimoire wrapped up so she wouldn't have to touch the thing, even through her gloves. They were waiting for her outside, she didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, simply nodded to gather them up and to leave that place. Never to return.  
Shale was the first to meet her upon their return to camp, "I trust it has dealt with the marsh witch's problem?"  
"We did, and you know you were welcome to join us. You didn't have to stay here."  
"Perish the thought. The marsh witch is bad enough; I'd hate to see what the thing that spawned her was like."  
"She turned into a dragon, Shale. One big enough to swallow even you."  
"And yet the other Warden is still around", the golem was clearly not going to let that comment get to her.  
Lana smiled wryly as Alistair passed by, "If you had a sense of smell, you'd understand."  
"Hey! I resemble that remark! And here you thought I stepped into that bog by accident."  
"Uh huh."  
"All right, all right, I was going to go wash up anyway." He mock leered at Lana, "Want to help keep me warm in the cold water?"  
Shale visibly shuddered, "I think I'm going to be sick", and hastily retreated as Lana tried to hide her smile while Alistair grinned, pleased that he got to the golem. Again.  
"I'll warm you up later once you've sluiced the muck off."  
The former templar shivered, "There might not be anything left after that. That water is as cold as Morrigan's heart." He instantly regretted his words as her eyes snapped with anger, but didn't say anything as she walked away to talk to said sorceress.  
Morrigan was trying, and failing, to maintain a cool façade as Lana approached the taller woman. She silently proffered the bundle which was accepted with slightly shaking hands. The Warden watched in silence as her friend unwrapped the grimoire. Then as she began to skim through the uncanny book a look of unmistakable relief shone in those golden eyes, "I…all I can say is thank you, Lana. This is the grimoire I initially thought you found in the Tower. "  
"You're welcome; I hope it proves to be less disturbing than the first one."  
As Lana began to turn to walk away Morrigan called out to her. She paused and looked at the other woman questioningly. "It had to have been a difficult fight…why did you do it?"  
One gloved hand started to go through the silver hair then stopped when its owner realized that it was still…mucky and pale brows quirked up in confusion at the question. "You're my friend. And I believe in keeping my promises."  
"But you didn't promise to do what you did, only that you would think over my request."  
Marlana shook her head, "I promised that I wouldn't allow harm to come to you. I'd consider getting dispossessed from your own body to be fairly harmful."  
"But...you made that promise to Flemeth…"  
"I did, I never promised I'd never harm her though." She sighed tiredly, she wasn't really up to one of the philosophical debates she often had with Morrigan, but felt she had to try to express her view on this.  
"She didn't deny her plans for you when I confronted her; she tried to sidetrack the conversation to other things. But in the end, when I asked Flemeth up front to deny what you told me, she didn't. The fact she raised a daughter for the use of her body in such away. Didn't care about the person within…" She shook her head as her gorge rose at the thought, "I know you believe love is a weakness to be exploited and that it would never last. I've seen otherwise. Despite not being the daughter she wanted me to be, my mother still loved me for me. The fact someone would have a child for that, that abominable reason is something I cannot and will not understand. No, I couldn't allow it to happen, even if we weren't friends."  
Marlana took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, her breath starting to frost slightly in the cooling evening air as the raven haired sorceress studied her thoughtfully. When Morrigan didn't say anything else, she quietly bid the woman good night.  
After making her usual rounds of checking up on people, and being firmly told by Wynne to stop acting like a mother hen and to take care of herself for once, she got a bowl of stew and a mug of tea before finding Alistair, who was already eating and simply nodded a greeting rather than talk with his mouth full. She carefully settled down next to him before starting to eat her own meal. The silence was somewhat strained until they both started talking at once.  
"About earlier, I just wanted to say-"  
"I'm sorry for-"  
Both stopped and laughed, then lightly kissed before returning to their meal, back in charity with each other. When they finished eating he put an arm around her shoulders as she leaned against him and slid her left arm around his waist, her expression pensive. Alistair quietly spoke, "We don't have to go back if you don't want to. At least not right away. Or was it earlier?"  
"Just… ghosts, that's all, love. I'd hoped, well, a foolish thing. Never mind."  
"Your brother?"  
Mutely, she nodded as he gently stroked her hair not knowing what to say. Finally he sighed, "Let's put things away and call it a night. We do have a long day tomorrow."  
Darkspawn surrounded him and tried to drag him down, but he refused to give up, smashing them back with sword and shield. She was out there alone and unprotected. Then that terrible scream that had haunted his nightmares from time to time, ever since his Joining, erupted, but this time it sounded different. His opponents turned away from him, running towards that awful sound.  
His heart sank as he saw her sinking her blades into the head of the massive, twisted dragon the way she had done to its smaller brethren once before. Only this time when the head flung her into the blood red sky she didn't land back on the beast. Instead she fell silently to land in a crumpled heap of black leather and scarlet hair before one clawed foot. The Archdemon shrieked in victory as its minions rushed in at her. Helpless he ran after them, hoping to get there in time, but was too slow.  
"MARLANA! NOOOOOO!"  
She'd just gone outside for a breath of fresh air to recover from her own nightmares when she heard Alistair starting to thrash, then screaming her name with soul crushing despair. Rushing into the tent, with no regard to her own safety, she flung herself down on top of him, hoping that the weight of her body would help bring him back. Instead it was the very chilled state of her skin that woke him. She'd only worn his shirt under her cloak because she hadn't intended to be outside for long, but still wanted to be somewhat covered.  
Brown eyes stared up blankly at her for so long she feared he was still caught in the web of poisoned dreams. Then his gaze filled with relief before he crushed her to his chest murmuring her name over and over again. He released her enough to let her suck in a breath before rolling them over and sheathing himself inside of her. She didn't understand his desperation as he began to move within her, and as her body responded to his, especially as his hands and that clever mouth began to work their magic on her, she couldn't think about anything.  
With both of them spent and sated, he balanced himself so that his weight wouldn't crush her, but still kept her pinned under him, he regarded her anxiously again. Starting to think again despite herself, her eyes darkened with worry, "Alistair?"  
"I love you, you know that? I'd never abandon you, right?"  
Using deliberate motions, she wiggled her arms out to hug him close. "I know that and I love you too. But you're starting to scare me."  
He kissed her slowly and sweetly, but still with that edge of fear. When he finally stopped to let them breathe, in a ragged voice began to tell her about the nightmare. In silence she ran her fingers through his sweat soaked hair trying to soothe him, as she listened and understood his fear.  
"I'm sorry, beloved, but I can't promise not to charge into the fray, but I'll do what I can to be careful."  
Alistair took another deep breath and let it out slowly, "I know, it's just…"  
She kissed him lightly, "We'll find a way through the Blight and the war and everything else, somehow, we will. I know you asked me this earlier, but if you don't want to go back to Ostagar, we don't have to."  
He sighed, "No, I think…I think I need to go back, put to rest some ghosts of my own."  
He ran his fingertips along her cheek delicately, "Let's get some sleep while we can."  
They rearranged themselves in the bedroll, but Alistair still held her close as they drifted off to a dreamless sleep.  
Dawn came with a thick cloud cover and a cold drizzle that was more sleet than rain. Feeling miserable not just from the weather, but the constant pressure of nearby Darkspawn, Marlana lead the way to Ostagar. Only instead of a few hours ride ended up becoming over a day as they had to avoid bands that were too big for their group to handle. By the time they arrived at that ill-fated battlefield, they'd had a good look at what the Blight was doing to the south which made everyone quiet and glum.  
Drizzle had turned into sleet then into snow during that ride and on the morning they ventured into the ruins the fallen snow had frozen enough to crunch underfoot. Even under Marlana's normally silent tread. The three survivors, four if you counted the mabari, made their way in through what had been the entrance to the army camp. Not surprisingly they were greeted by a small pack of hurlocks and genlocks. Leliana's arrows flew over the heads of Alistair and Marlana as the two slammed into their respective targets. He hammered the hurlock before him with his shield then finished it off with his sword through its vitals. He turned for his next target to see Marlana gracefully cut the legs out from another hurlock with a sweep of both blades and decapitate it with a backhand sweep of her offhand sword. Then they were both blown back with a sudden fireball.  
Alistair recovered first and charged for the casting emissary, before it could finish its spell; he'd already unleashed his own power as a templar against the monstrous spellcaster. Stunned, it had no chance as it went down in a welter of blood. Panting, he turned to see that Lana and Leliana had already finished off the remainder of that pack with the assistance of Oogie. He could feel more nearby, but not close enough to challenge the party, at least not yet. Seeing the feral gleam in his fellow Warden's eyes, he knew she could feel them nearby as well.  
Unsettled by her memories of the overrun ruins, Marlana bent down to wipe her blades off on the seeming leader of the pack; she paused as something didn't seem right about its armor. With absent ease of long practice she sheathed her weapons before kneeling down to examine what caught her attention. It wasn't the first time she'd examined dead darkspawn for things they'd been carrying, or other dead things for that matter, but she generally tried to do it as quickly as possible. But for some reason she felt reluctant to do what was normally done as a matter of business. Annoyed, she pushed her squeamishness to the side as she removed the gauntlets from the dead monster.  
Taking some of the nearby snow, she scrubbed at the blackened metal, revealing a familiar golden sheen. Lightheaded, she knelt in the cold slush with her hound standing guard over her. Marlana hadn't thought highly of Cailan as a king, but he'd been a good man and he deserved better than this. Alistair began to ask what was wrong when he saw what she was holding. "Oh Maker", he whispered, "Is that what I think that is?"  
Wordlessly, she offered up the first recovered part of Cailan's armor to his brother.  
Grimmer and feeling even more haunted than before, they continued to scour the darkspawn filled ruins. When they reached the ancient temple, Wynne and Leliana let the two Wardens approach alone not wanting to intrude. For some reason it was barely touched by the disgusting creatures. The only damage done to the area was from artillery damage from that terrible night. Lost in her memories of the night she drank from a poisoned cup while leaning on her hound for comfort, she didn't see Alistair stoop to pick something up, study the unknown object before stowing it in his pack.  
I didn't want this, Duncan. This was supposed to be your job. I agreed to be a Grey Warden because it was my father's dying wish. I just wanted to serve my family well and make them proud. This is a burden I don't think I'm strong enough to carry, but I have to be, because there's no one else who will take it up. I drank from your poisoned chalice and damned myself for the greater good, or so you said. But you got to die in Cailan's glorious battle and so don't have to be the one to clean up the mess afterwards.  
At least I have Alistair, even if I wanted to strangle him at first. I think you'd be proud of him.  
Her reverie was broken as Alistair lightly clapped his hand on her shoulder; she straightened up, "You're right, let's get going. I don't want to be here when the sun sets." As they came down the stairs together, Oogie bounded along behind his human and her mate. Both Wynne and Leliana gave them looks of sympathy, but didn't say anything since they were swarmed by yet another band of darkspawn.  
As the group continued on through what was left of Ostagar, they found more of the lost king's armor, each piece seeming to weight more heavily on Alistair's heart. Understanding the pain he was going through, Marlana tried to be as supportive as possible. So when they found the key and the chest, she was the one who opened it. Yet when faced with the arms and shield of a dead king, she couldn't just unceremoniously dump them on Alistair.  
With care she undid the wrappings, then she turned and presented the shield and sword to Alistair. "I cannot presume to know your father, since I had only met him a handful of times as a small girl, and your brother not at all. But I know of them through my father and my brother. They would want you to use these, not just against the Blight, but to defend your country from any enemy. And I believe they would know you would bring to them, not glory, but duty and integrity in your usage."  
His jaw worked as he regarded her in silence and she didn't even try to figure out what was going on in his mind. Only hoping she hadn't offended him.  
"Then let it begin here, where Cailan fell", there was no hesitation as he accepted the Theirin shield and blade with a slight bow. It took some rearranging, but soon had them arranged to his satisfaction. It was only after Alistair had taken the first step to accepting his father's legacy that she noticed the papers stowed in the chest, deciding to read them later she picked them up and stowed them away in a pouch.  
An hour later they stood before what was left of Cailan's remains once they had cleared the bridge that spanned both halves of the ruins. Unconsciously, the two lovers reached out to one another and stood there with their hands clasped together in grief. But they couldn't allow themselves to indulge for long; they could still feel the genlock necromancer that was still about, even if they'd gotten a majority of the darkspawn in the area. That one pulsed with such power they couldn't miss him. With a silent promise to the dead king's spirit, they finally went to the last place they hadn't even come close to approaching yet.  
The Tower of Ishal.  
The two Wardens stood before the doorway for a long time, both caught up in the same memories of battle and fire amidst a raging thunderstorm. The desperate fighting as they tried to get to the beacon in time. Only to find out that all that effort had been for nothing. To have been saved by someone they ended up having to kill.  
Together they opened the heavy door, knowing the necromancer, and possibly worse, awaited them.  
Instead of repeating their steps upwards, they found themselves regarding the large pit in the floor of the Tower. They'd originally refused to even contemplating going down into the first time they'd been there. Only the door to the way up was completely sealed shut and there was no time to try to break it down. All four humans and one mabari regarded the hole with near identical expressions of disgust. But the two Wardens, and possibly the hound, could still feel the skitter of the warped caster's presence in the tunnels.  
"Ugh, I really don't want to think about what's down there," Alistair grumbled.  
Lana grimaced, "I know, but…"  
Since no one else was making a move, she went down into the darkness.  
The tunnels were better and worse than they expected. Not as much darkspawn, but there were far too many spiders of unusual size. Covered in sticky webbing and even more disgusting ichor, Marlana pulled out a rag to try to wipe away some of the mess from her face. "Now I'm beginning to understand mother's horror of spiders. I didn't think it was possible for them to get this big." She prodded the corpse of an exceptionally large specimen in fascinated revulsion.  
Leliana was in the process of replacing her snapped bowstring as she spoke, "It is said that the corruption of the darkspawn does this. That is why whenever you find such creatures, there will always be darkspawn."  
Lana considered the implications, "Ugh. Anyway, I think we're getting near the end of the tunnels."  
Stepping out into the cleaner air was a blessing, even though clouds were starting to close in on the mid-afternoon sun and a few fat, lazy snowflakes were starting to drift down over the battlefield. They heard the necromancer's chant before seeing it, its eyes blazed with unholy power as it unleashed a ball of energy the color of decomposing bodies at something covered by the snow.  
Roaring in a voice that she'd only heard in her nightmares, the undead ogre erupted out of the snow. Larger than any other they'd seen to date, its movements seemed unnatural, even for an ogre. The normally bruised colored skin looked like it was rotting and the stench…  
Oogie tried to bite it, but fell back gagging, so when the necromancer summoned more skeletons, the hound gleefully bounded after them. Skeletons were nothing more than animated bones after all, and he loved bones.  
Though Leliana fired arrow after arrow into the undead monstrosity, they seemingly didn't do anything to it. So it fell to Alistair and Marlana to eliminate it as the others slowly destroyed the rest of the opposition. While her arrows may not have done anything to the reanimated ogre, they worked quite well on the necromancer. So well in fact that she killed it with an arrow between the eyes.  
Marlana and Alistair had fallen into their standard tactics when dealing with ogres, having dealt with them from time to time during their journeys across the land since Ostagar. But they didn't seem to be working very well, and as the two went to try to change tactics, the worst happened.  
A patch of unseen ice sent the normally nimblefooted woman skidding into the reach of the ogre. Not missing the opportunity it grabbed her, out of shock of being seized and slowly being crushed, her swords fell out of her numbed hands. Seeing his worst nightmare come true, Alistair began pounding on the beast with fury fueled by absolute terror.  
Coughing up blood as her ribs slowly cracked under the enormous pressure with vision going hazy from the loss of vital fluids, not to mention not being able to breathe, she saw the hilts of two weapons stuck in its chest. Not knowing what happened the last time someone had been in its grasp in a similar situation as it drew her to its maw, she drew on the last of her strength to grab the hilt of one of the weapons. Then drove the short blade into the knuckle of the thing's massive thumb, twisted the weapon, causing the joint to dislocate with a crack. More importantly, with the loss of use of the digit, its crushing grasp was broken. She fell in a crumpled heap, gasping for breath as archer and swordsman could finally let lose without her in the way.  
Wynne's healing magic came as a welcome benison; she could feel it beginning to encourage her broken and cracked bones to reknit even as torn flesh very slowly started to heal. Alistair pounded up to her, jerked out the strongest healing brew he carried, tenderly lifted her head up and poured the vile substance down her throat. That's when she finally discovered that yes, Wynne and Morrigan had finally collaborated on something, she was indeed the unfortunate recipient and it was even more nauseating than she could imagine. But she was still alive, so that was something at least.  
Groaning, she got up on her feet with Alistair hovering over her, clearly wanting to go to aid, but afraid of her hurting her even more. Realizing she still had the unknown weapon in her hand, she lifted it up and peered at the dagger in astonishment. It was a plain blade made of dragonbone with its hilt wrapped with leather; its only decoration was the rampant griffin on the pommel. She knew that dagger, had seen its original owner use it often enough. She felt Alistair's regard on his mentor's weapon, not knowing what to say, she silently offered it to him.  
He simply shook his head, walked over to the twice-dead ogre, gazed down at the other weapon buried in its chest for a long moment. With a swift jerk, he pulled out the matching sword to the dagger, wiped the blade down before walking back to the still speechless woman.  
"Duncan would want you to have this. And even if he didn't, I want you to have them. They fit your style more than mine and… it's fitting considering the duties you ended up taking on." He paused, "It's time to let your family blade have its well deserved rest."  
Time to let her family's ghosts have their rest.  
She bowed her head then took the proffered blade numbly, realizing she'd have to get new scabbards made to fit the weapons. At that moment it was easier to think about trivialities than the implications of Alistair's comment. With the help of the others, she gathered up her fallen weapons and limped through the tunnels back to Cailan's remains.  
Their hearts heavy, the little band left Ostagar, a pyre blazing behind them in defiance to the gathering darkness.


	14. Not So Biddable

"Biddable? The old prick thinks I'm biddable?" Marlana Cousland snarled as she read through the papers she'd found in Ostagar, her eyes blazing with icy rage. "He met me for all of five minutes two years ago when I'm overwhelmed by noble assholes, and he thinks I'm biddable."  
There were some uneasy looks exchanged amongst the others in camp at the sudden outburst. It was rare for their leader to yell, but they all knew what that look meant and didn't want to end up being the one to draw her ire. Even though she would feel bad afterwards, none of them really wanted to go through that kind of pain.  
Zevran sidled over to Alistair as the templar returned with Sten, the two of them carrying firewood back to make sure they had enough for the night. "Friend Alistair, I think you need to do something to settle down our fearless leader. Or I fear there's going to be a great deal of bloodshed."  
She'd stopped yelling, but they could still see her grumbling as she looked through the rest of the papers. The three men watched her warily and Alistair shook his head, not really wanting to get skewered himself, "Maker's breath, what did the lot of you do to set her off like that?"  
"Us? We have done nothing. She has, however, been reading some papers and that's when she started yelling about being called biddable. Which, I can assure you, none of us would even think about calling her. Formidable, most certainly, but biddable? I don't think she was biddable even as a child. I'm surprised she even knows the meaning of the word."  
Wondering what the elven assassin could be talking about, the tall, muscled young warrior dumped his load of firewood in its spot. Having to remind himself that his love wasn't going to kill him, he walked over to where she was sitting on her pack, still grumbling, and squatted down before her. Very quietly, "Hi there."  
Her head went up, eyes still blazing and shoved two pieces of paper into his face, "Read these."  
Out of reflex he took them and looked them over. The first was a letter from Eamon to Cailan about how Cailan should put Anora to the side. Mainly because it didn't look like she was going to be producing an heir anytime soon. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, he read the other paper which was part of a list of eligible noblewomen that Eamon thought Cailan should replace Anora with. His head hurt as he read: My suggestion would be Marlana Cousland. Granted she has just reached her age of majority, but her father is one of your strongest allies. She's also said to have some of the same interests that you do and since she's young, she'll be biddable.  
He pinched the bridge of his nose as she started to pace angrily, her long braid swishing back and forth, much like the tail of the cat he'd once had. Suddenly some of the questions Eamon had asked about her made a great deal more sense. Then he re-read the part about her just achieving the age of majority and the date of the original letter. While he was a little vague on the current date, that date on the letter was shortly before Cailan summoned his forces to Ostagar and he felt a little guilty. He knew she was younger, but not how much… Feeling that hot eyed glare, Alistair jerked his thoughts back to the letter. If she picked up his guilt, she'd kick his ass.  
"Erm. Yes, well. I thought he was a better judge of character than that. Biddable wasn't the first thought I had when I first met you."  
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "And just what was that?"  
"A beautiful woman who'd kick my ass if I looked at her the wrong way," since it was the absolute truth he didn't have to worry about hedging what he was saying.  
Lana couldn't help but laugh causing her anger to fade away as he'd hoped. Unfortunately, her ribs still hadn't fully recovered and she hoped he didn't notice the hitch in her breathing at the sharp spike of pain went through her side. But when it was his turn for his eyes to narrow, she knew he hadn't missed anything. Alistair rarely did miss anything when it came to her, and to be fair she found vice versa was true.  
Hastily, "I'm fine, Alistair."  
"Uh huh", he didn't look at all convinced; even worse, he was getting that overprotective look in his eyes.  
"So want to tell me why you looked guilty for a moment there?"  
A slightly wicked gleam came into his eyes, she wasn't used to be on the receiving end of that expression, and he purred slightly, "Tell you what. You let me fuss a bit and promise not to yell, and I'll tell you. And we'll just pretend you haven't been over exerting yourself. Or…"  
Curious, and a little nervous, "Or what?"  
"I tell Wynne you haven't listened to her orders about taking it easy."  
She sputtered, "You are a royal bastard."  
He just grinned at her.  
"Okay, fine, I promise I won't yell and you can do some fussing. Not a lot."  
Lana found herself tucked up in their combined bedrolls with an extra blanket on top for good measure with Alistair wrapped around her lightly running his fingers through her hair. Thankfully he hadn't insisted that she pull on any extra clothes like he did the night she'd been near crushed by the undead ogre, otherwise she'd be roasting, instead of being only slightly over warm. Not that she would willingly admit to anyone, it was nice to be fussed over from time to time, especially since this was the closest they'd been since her injuries five days before. They still slept together, but she missed the intimacy. Not that she'd been up for anything the first night, but since then she felt a barrier between them.  
"So…are you going to tell me what that guilty look was for?"  
He made a rueful grunt, "You're not going to let that go, are you?"  
"I let you fuss didn't I?"  
She could feel his grin, "So you did." He sobered, "I didn't realize, just, well, er, your age."  
Confused, "My age? What about it?"  
She was going to kick his ass for this, he knew it, but went ahead since he'd already opened that particular can of worms, "I didn't realize how much younger you are."  
Marlana leaned back enough to glare up at him with one blue eye, the other covered by her hair, but her voice was merely exasperated, "Alistair, I am an adult."  
"But the fact I'm that much older than you doesn't bother you."  
Despite the glare, there was a flash of dimple as she grinned at him, "I figure it makes us about even." Then more seriously, "Alistair, you have to understand, being my father's daughter meant I knew from an early age I was likely to marry for duty. That whomever I did get married off to was likely to be much older. Five years is nothing as far as I'm concerned."  
Relieved that she'd only glared and not kicked his ass, Alistair relaxed and cuddled her closer. Absently he ran his fingers further down her back, but stopped when he felt the beginning of the wounds on her back from where the nails of the ogre had dug in. She didn't look up as she said sadly, "Is that why you've barely touched me? I know that scars aren't exactly attractive on women."  
Andraste's flaming sword, the former templar thought with annoyance at himself and her, he still couldn't avoid stepping in it with her.  
Tightly, "No, you've been badly hurt, and that kind of exertion is going to rip everything open. I'm not going to hurt you anymore than I already have." He still kicked himself for not realizing what being inexperienced meant for a woman.  
"I'm as healed as I'm going to get, not even Wynne could prevent the scarring that happened. At least on my back, the ribs are still a little tender, but nothing serious as long as we're careful."  
Scars then, not wounds, he felt sick. Not because she had scars, it was to be expected with the life they lead, she was still Marlana. She still had that blazing spirit of fire and ice. Still had that big heart, still cared too much for everyone she considered under her care. He felt sick because his worst nightmares came true and she didn't blame him like she should. All he could do was hug her, unable to speak but not wanting her to take his silence as rejection.  
Lana buried her face into his throat as she tucked her head under his chin, so her voice was muffled, but she'd picked up on his uneasiness. Not sure of the cause she tried to cheer him up, "Did I ever tell you that you're the one bright spot in everything that has happened?"  
She hesitated when he still didn't say anything, because he couldn't. He wondered if she knew she was the only person who'd managed to rob him of his innate glibness on a regular basis. Wondering if she was going to make things more awkward between them, she continued on, "It's true. I didn't want to be a Warden, but I agreed because it was my father's dying wish. Once I would've said I would give everything up to have my family back, but I can't say that now. Because it'd mean giving you up, and I can't do that. At least you made it worthwhile to drink from that damned chalice."  
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unaware of how it tickled his skin, and warmed it. Warmed other parts as well, but he wasn't going to act on that yet, not sure if he could. When he felt her subtly shift her hips against him, he realized just how warmed up he'd gotten and that she noticed. Noticed and shifted closer, this wasn't helping him stay a gentleman to his wounded lady.  
"Alistair, I want you to know that you're not just the keeper of my heart, but the brighter half of my soul. Without you, I think I would've turned into one of the monsters we're trying to stop."  
He kissed her then and found something to say after all, "I love you."  
And was very glad he neglected to mention that he found and kept the Joining chalice. She would've kicked his ass for that.


	15. Dwarven Politics

Orzammar stank of burning rock and hot metal. There were other subtler scents, smoke from cooking, of people who lived enclosed together all their lives. Fresh spilled blood. Desperation.  
The later may have been her imagination, Marlana thought as she strode through the streets of the dwarven city towards the Diamond Quarter where their lords, or deshyrs, met. With the death of their king and no clear heir it seemed like the populace was turning upon itself as faction fought faction. She'd heard a phrase once, which seemed fitting. As above, so below. Neither the surface nor the underground had a clear leader that could unify either people so they turned upon each other.  
It seemed that the dwarven nobles were no better than human as they bickered amongst themselves which of the two candidates would be given the throne. So far she wasn't impressed with either one of the men. One seemed overly bloodthirsty, the other… His own men fled in fear leaving him behind. Of course her mood wasn't helped any by having a confrontation with some of Loghain's lapdogs before the gates. Perhaps she should have killed them out of hand as suggested by Sten, but she couldn't just kill them for being stupid. If she killed every stupid person she came across there'd be quite a few dead being left in her wake. To end the Blight she needed the living, not the dead.  
Besides, there'd been a great deal of satisfaction knowing that when informed that she had been allowed into Orzammar instead of his delegation, Loghain would be furious. Not to mention it would stick in Howe's craw. For those reasons alone, she did it gleefully. She was a bad, bad woman to paraphrase the man who walked to her right.  
Now she walked the halls of Orzammar, wondering what she was going to have to do to get the dwarves support. She could see the hostility in the eyes of the locals, not that she could blame them for not wanting outsiders during their troubles. But it disturbed her to see the hostility shift to speculation when one would murmur to another that this outsider was a Grey Warden. She'd been told they respected the Wardens since they were the only surfacers who understood their ongoing battles with the darkspawn. She wondered if the dwarves could understand, or accept, what it took to become a Warden. She'd had months, and Alistair near a year, and both were still learning to adjust.  
While the dwarven city was huge, it felt…empty in a way. And in the distance, she could feel the presence of darkspawn. Not in the city no, but nearby and remembered some of what Bodhan had told her during their travels, about the constant siege by the Taint-twisted things. She wondered how Wardens could bear being in Orzammar, but suspected by sheer strength of will and not for very long. Somehow, with the way everything else had gone, she suspected her time here was not falling under the "not very long" heading.  
At least during the month long, and incredibly miserable, trip here, the last of her wounds had healed from that last terrible fight they had in Ostagar. Though she had wondered if she was going to lose pieces to frostbite with how bitterly cold the winter was turning out to be. At least Orzammar was warm, even if it reeked. Pity it couldn't be scrubbed the way Alistair's armor could be.  
Finally her little menagerie, and that's what it really felt like with the way the dwarven people stared at them, made its way to the Chamber of the Assembly. Marlana left almost everyone outside, except for Alistair and Shale, the later had wanted to come for reasons of her own. The trio listened as the deshyrs…discussed matters while waiting to speak with the Steward. It sounded a lot like some of the squabbling she heard amongst the banns her father had ruled, and the squabbles in the Landsmeet she'd been told about by both Fergus and her father. Their memories still hurt, but at least not with the raw edge they had before the Temple. In a way she was grateful for that, it meant she could use what she learned from her family without being crippled by grief.  
The Grey Warden suspected she was going to need all her wits about her for this. She'd been warned about dwarven politics, but truth be told it didn't seem much different from human. She wondered how much backstabbing would be going on. She felt a great deal of sympathy for the seemingly beleaguered Steward as he finally got tired of the bickering and banished the dwarven lords and ladies to cool down and to think things over. Privately, Marlana had her doubts about cooler heads prevailing. She did feel somewhat bad about disturbing the Steward, but the Blight was still ongoing and she had her duty.  
"Excuse me, my lord steward?"  
The obviously exhausted dwarf stopped in his tracks and stared at her for a long moment, clearly confused at the presence of two humans with a golem. "Yes, can I help you?  
She had to give him points for trying to be polite, and hoped she didn't sound pompous as she introduced herself, "I'm Marlana, Grey Warden, and I was told that you were the one to speak to."  
He ran a hand over his face, "Ah, yes, my apologies, Warden. A message had been brought to me, but I'm afraid other duties were more pressing."  
"Of course, I understand. I'm sorry to have come at such a time, and I wouldn't have, except for the Blight…"  
"Blight! Ancestors guide and guard us. Bad enough that our king died without an heir the Assembly can accept, but a Blight as well… I'm sorry Warden, but I can't provide the aid you seek. The treaty you bear is under the royal seal, and only a king can answer it."  
She could see where this was heading and didn't like it one bit. "I…see."  
Steward Bandelor gave her a shrewd look, her tone had given away more of her thoughts than she intended, "Your best bet is to seek common cause with either Lord Pyral Harrowmont or Prince Bhelen Aeducan, though at this time neither of them are leaving their respective homes. Both have representatives that you can speak with. Vartog Gavorn, who tends to haunt this hall, is Bhelen's man and Dulin Forender is Pyral's. If you don't seek them out, I'm sure one or both will, the presence of a Grey Warden is something that is hard to miss."  
She dipped down in a brief bow, "Thank you, my lord."  
Leaving the Steward to his duties, the three silently walked away, not wanting to discuss anything in public. Both Alistair and Shale were clearly amused at her getting ambushed by the representatives of both candidates for the throne. She wasn't sure how, but she managed to put both men off to give herself some time to think. Not just to think, but learn more about the people, while as a Warden she was supposed to be neutral, if she was going to end up playing politics she wanted to do her best by the people as her family had always done. And that meant learning about the people of Orzammar.  
Since the expected courtesies were done, she tried to find an inn to arrange for rooms, but was somewhat stymied at the fact there weren't any. Those that didn't live in Orzammar were surfacers who kept camp on the surface. Fortunately the guard who she was speaking with took pity and directed her to a boarding house for those that couldn't, or didn't want, a house of their own. There was no surprise at the fact the couple who ran the house were some sort of relative to the guard (she lost track after third cousin of brother's sister-in-law), but she was pleased they were more than happy to rent a majority of the house to her. There were a few other tenants who didn't care how many outsiders were there as long as their privacy was respected.  
Once everyone was settled in, Lana sat down on the edge of the bed in the room she and Alistair were given, pulled off her boots and fell backwards on said bed to enjoy the fact she wasn't on the road. And on a proper bed, not a bedroll on the cold, hard ground. Alistair grinned at her from where he was sitting as he tended to his armor before racking it. She couldn't help it, she whined a bit, "Why can't anything ever be easy? Dwarven politics. Ugh."  
"If it were easy, I doubt you'd be the one running around telling people what to do. Hm, that sounded better in my head", he added as her head lifted up enough for her to look at him oddly. "So what do you think so far?"  
"I think we're dealing with a nest of vipers. The question is, which is the least likely to bite us in the ass." She laid her head back down and covered her face with a pillow.  
"You're so succinct, my love. Hey!" He yelled as she threw the other pillow at him. "But seriously, what are you first impressions?"  
Sighing, she tossed the pillow to the side to sit up and started stripping off her armor, "I think they're both equally horrible. Harrowmont is touted as a noble's noble, and look at what they've done for the city. He's supposedly Endrin's choice of heir, but since he was the only one with the king in his last days, we don't know for sure if he really was the choice, or he's just saying that to get the throne."  
"And I'm not too sure how well wrapped Bhelen is considering some of what's being said about him. Supposedly arranged the death of the oldest of three sons and pinned it on the second son who was their father's favorite. On the other hand, his men clearly support him from that little fiasco we saw when we came into the city."  
Alistair leaned back in his chair with fascination, partly out of admiration of her lithe form as she started to scrub down from the basin of hot water that had been arranged for, but mostly as she started to sum up her initial impressions. She may not like politics, or like playing them, but she clearly had learned how to grasp them. He wondered if either dwarf knew what they were in for with asking for her outsider's perspective. And he wondered if Eamon and the Landsmeet knew what they were in for with her once she'd gathered her army. He wondered what he was in for if she did make him king, "So what are your plans from here?"  
She began to briskly towel down, and he quickly returned his attention to his armor because otherwise they'd both end up distracted if he kept his eyes on her. "I need to talk to the locals, and not just the nobility." Marlana frowned in thought as she began to get dressed, "And go to this Shaperate, whatever it is. I don't know near enough about the dwarves, until now the only ones I've ever dealt with are surface dwarves and they don't act the same." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and grinned a little, "You can look, you know. You should know by now, I don't mind."  
He muttered, "If I keep looking, I'm going to do more than look and you know it, you vixen."  
She dimpled at him as she pulled on the last of her clothing which made things just that much worse. Lana lightly kissed him on the cheek and murmured, "I'll make it up to you later", before heading out, but not without her blades.  
Seeing Duncan's sword crossed with Starfang on her back seemed to be…right. And he was beginning to think of it less as Duncan's and more as Marlana's. Alistair thought it should bother him, but after everything that had happened in the last few months, it was hard to remember what it'd been like before. Shaking his head, he put up his armor, then headed to see if there was any cheese available and if he could cage some from the lord of the house who was also the cook. Sometimes only cheese could make things better.  
The first week in Orzammar went surprisingly quickly for Marlana, mainly because she spent a great deal of time in the Shaperate learning dwarven history and culture. Time in the Shaperate was then followed up by talking with a great many people of all castes while being at her most charming. Alistair watched with interest how she could get often even the most reclusive dwarf to talk to her. He realized that some of those times she was chatting with Leliana hadn't been all girl talk, he wondered how much spycraft she'd learned from the Orlesian. Or if it wasn't Leliana, how much she'd learned from Zevran.  
Or was it just her own natural sneakiness?  
He knew she was a clever and sneaky woman, and apparently her parents taught her more than he thought. Or rather her father, once he thought about their conversations about her parents. He did notice though she had Leliana and Zevran going out to gather information separately from her. Wynne was often off talking with the dwarven healers for their knowledge. Where Morrigan and Sten went, he didn't know and hoped they stayed out of trouble. Shale refused to step out of the house on her own not wanting to deal with dwarves that were overly curious about a sentient golem.  
There was only one thing that bothered Alistair more he wanted to admit. It was the fact Marlana had taken to going to the Provings when not in discussions with anyone, and not to watch. The dwarven bloodsport was disturbing to him and at first he avoided going, not because he didn't want to see her getting hurt. The complete lack of injuries on her part and that none of their healing salves or brews was being depleted meant she was coming out on top of her matches.  
Finally, he went to watch, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible to see what exactly she was up to. She was treating it as sparring matches he realized when he saw her in the arena with plain steel weapons, neither her starmetal sword nor the dragonebone in evidence. They looked to be dulled as well. But she sparred against pairs and squads, or she sparred, they were obviously out for blood. That would explain why she still wore her leathers, the enchantments worked into them gave her what little protection she needed when someone actually touched her. One of the onlookers explained these were for those new to the Provings to break them in so to speak. They seemed to approve of her approach with the comment, "We lose too many warriors as it is."  
This was the first time he'd seen her fighting without being beside her and he began to understand why she scared people the way she did.  
Marlana was fast, he knew that, but she was far faster than she should be, even with some of the lyrium worked items she'd gotten during their travels. That speed combined with her skill from the constant fighting they'd waged made her formidable. He knew that most with her style favored daggers, but in her case the longswords worked better. The swords gave her much needed reach since so many of her opponents were often much taller. The warrior supposed he should be afraid of her, after all none of their companions were willing to spar with her, but it didn't. Alistair was glad of that speed and skill, it meant his lady could protect herself. But he still worried.  
What he was upset about though was the fact she was going up against multiple opponents on her own. And he wondered just how he could talk to her about that without them getting into an argument. They only argued lately when she felt he was being an overprotective bully and he thought he was being reasonable. He had to admit, it looked like a lot of fun as she finished up her last bout. He wondered if she knew how he'd try to keep her protected if she succeeded in the mad scheme to make him king Especially if… his mind shied away from thinking about why he had gotten the plain silver ring set with sapphires and gold filigree. Apprentice work he'd been told with a sniff when he had gotten it for far less than he expected, but it'd been perfect as far as he was concerned. He just needed the perfect moment to ask.  
Shaking his head to clear his wandering thoughts, Alistair went looking for his wandering lady. Not that she was hard to find since she was still in the Proving grounds talking with some of the other fighters. She smiled and waved him over, but didn't stop her conversation. In between talks of past fights and techniques, she asked them about their view of the city. He mentally shook his head, she was still persistent in getting information from all possible sources.  
As they returned to their quarters arm in arm he could see she had made up her mind about something. "Sooo, want to talk about whatever it is going in that devious little brain."  
"Once we're back at the house and away from prying ears."  
Marlana called for the others when they returned, where they gathered in the dining hall, that being the only room that was big enough for everyone. When Alistair saw what could only be described as haunted in the eyes of Sten and Morrigan, he realized the time underground was wearing at the two. For a moment he felt sympathy for them, nor did he miss the flash of concern in Marlana's expression. Before she said why she called everyone together, she had Leliana and Zevran help her make sure there weren't any prying ears. Satisfied no one was eavesdropping, she began.  
The Warden wanted to pace, to do something, as she quietly laid out the pros and cons of each of the dwarven candidates that she had gleaned with the help of Zev and Leli. But Marlana didn't dare, she could see the strain on both the Qunari and the apostate mage and knew that any sign of nerves on her part might set them off. She was going to have to send them back up to the surface and knew they'd object, but she didn't know when they would break. She couldn't afford the loss of two companions for this, but at the same time she definitely couldn't afford the loss of the two for the rest of the Blight. But that could wait when she could discuss it with them in private.  
Quietly she summed up all that she had found out about the two dwarven contenders for the throne. Harrowmont was considered the example of all that was best about dwarven nobility, but her previous reservations still held true. He also favored the status quo, which for the present would keep Orzammar stable, but it would likely further the decline of the dwarven people. But most importantly when she had talked with his representative, all she was told was that Harrowmont would put her request for aid to the Assembly for their approval. There were quiet sounds of disgust, none of them had any use for the Assembly at this point.  
Then she summed up about what she found out about Bhelen, that he wanted to get rid of the caste system, essentially break up the status quo. That would lead to more immediate chaos, but had the potential of giving the dwarves a much needed shake-up. She'd seen the lot of the non-nobles, while the merchants could make a somewhat decent life for themselves, the lower castes were stuck. And then there were the casteless. What she thought about that was best left unsaid. But her reservations of the dwarven prince still held true. The important thing was that Bhelen's representative assured her was that the Blight was a concern, if Bhelen was crowned he would give her the much needed forces.  
"While I'm told that Harrowmont is a very likable man, I don't need likable, I need troops. And this city needs the stranglehold taken off of it."  
She expected some sort of disagreement, at least from Morrigan and the taciturn qunari, but neither said anything, seemingly lost in their thoughts. She regarded the others, Zev clearly didn't care either way, Leliana had already voiced her opinion and had reluctantly agreed. Shale shrugged, Alistair and Wynne both nodded reluctantly. Apparently they had come to similar conclusions.  
"Very well then, it seems that Bhelen is going to get his Grey Warden after all."  
She met with each representative separately and while she tried to be as diplomatic as possible, Harrowmont's man, Dulin Forender, didn't take the rejection very well. Once the angry dwarf stomped out of the room, she dropped her head into hands, temples aching. For a supposed adult, the man had acted like a child in a temper tantrum. At least her meeting with Vartog Gavorn, Bhelen's man, had gone more pleasantly and he had the good grace not to gloat over his rival's failure. He had simply thanked her and let her know of the prince's first wish to inform two of Harrowmont's supporters that he promised them the same lands.  
Marlana eyed the documents she'd been given after the man had left. After some careful study, she knew they were altered in some way. It bothered her that it had already come to this. But she had made her choice and charted her path, now it was time to run the course.  
The first of the two nobles was easy enough to find, Lord Helmi she already knew from her visits to Tapsters either alone or with one of her friends. Though she learned she had to restrict Alistair to one tankard of dwarven ale, as much as she loved him, the man didn't have much capacity for holding his booze. She did find though since she'd become a warden her capacity for alcohol was much higher than it had been, if Alistair's was the same way… She mentally laughed at the thought.  
Helmi was at his usual table and he smiled when he saw the slim human woman, "Marlana, my friend, I didn't expect to see you so early in the day. Pull up a couple of stools, have a drink. Though might I suggest something not as potent for your towering friend?"  
Both Wardens laughed and eased into place before the genial lord who liked to "mix it up with the commoners" as he put it. They chatted idly for a few moments, mostly about how the deshyr had horrified his family yet again. Finally Lana sighed, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I recently found these…I thought you might want to take a look."  
The dwarven lord skimmed over the documents, and sighed in return, "I'm not going to ask how you got them. It will however set some of mother's plans back." He mulled that thought over and cheered up a bit, "That should be entertaining at least. If you'll excuse me for the moment, I'm eager to go ruin mother's day. Again." He ambled off surprisingly quickly.  
Lana had already told Alistair about the source of the documents and while he looked a little disturbed, he didn't question her about them. They finished their drinks somberly, neither one wanting to talk. The other noble proved to be more difficult. Not that Lady Dace herself was the problem, but the fact that the approval to cancel the deal with Harrowmont had to be given from her father. Who was on an excursion in the Deep Roads.  
Both were grim as they walked away with the token to let them out of the city and the map to the Aeducan Thaig. Marlana rubbed her forehead, "I guess I knew it might come to this with us coming to Orzammar. But at the same time, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."  
"What? You don't want to see what'll be facing us in thirty years?"  
"That's assuming we live that long, I'll consider it a miracle if we actually manage to find the Archdemon. Another if we survive it. Let's go inform the others of our latest adventure. Thank the Maker I've already sent Sten and Morrigan off to make trouble on the surface, I don't want to think about them in the Deep Roads."  
"Hm, Morrigan being trouble, now that's a new thought." She smiled weakly at his jest so he continued, "I didn't hear any yelling, they were that agreeable?"  
"Not so much agreeable as…worn out. I hadn't thought… Morrigan is used to being outside or easy access to a lot of space, not being confined the way Orzammar is. As for Sten, I suspect that time in the cage affected him more than he wants to admit. I'm feeling confined, I can't imagine what it was like for him."  
With no ready quip from Alistair, she looked up at him, "Are you doing okay? You haven't said anything. I'm sorry if I've been assuming."  
"It's not the confinement, just that low grade feel of constant darkspawn presence. Would you believe I'm looking forward to the Deep Roads just to kill some of those things?"  
"I can, because I'm feeling the same way."  
They'd arrived at their temporary headquarters and as they entered Marlana wondered if she and Alistair would be answering their Calling a couple of decades too early.


	16. Into The Deep

Darkspawn attacked, wave after seemingly endless wave, and she continued her vicious dance of blurring blades of bone and steel. She started to slow, but refused to give up. She had to continue the shield of weapons and leather clad flesh for the prone man behind her. She wouldn't think of the odd crease on the double griffin on the chestplate or all the blood that started to ooze out of the armor. She told herself it wasn't tears pouring down her face, but only sweat, as she swept her blades through the tainted monsters, the runes worked into them glowing brightly in the dimness of the thaig. For every monster she killed it seemed as if two or three took its place.  
So she started a steady rhythm, slash out with both blades in a sweeping arc, cutting out the legs from the front line of monsters. Backhand sweep to take out whatever creature made the mistake of getting up first, forehand sweep to take the next one. Gut whatever was closest that wasn't an ally. Sometimes it was forehand sweep then backhand. Sometimes she gutted something first. It didn't matter, the blades swept in arcs of death singing their siren song of destruction.  
Wynne's magics of protection and healing had faded to only the feel of a cool breeze at the neck, when before they were a steady gust cooling the brow and healing rent flesh. Behind her she could still hear the twang of bowstrings as Leliana and Zevran fired their arrows into the seething mass of darkspawn. There wasn't enough room for Zev to join the melee without being overwhelmed the way Alistair had been so he'd been given Lana's bow and her store of arrows. To her right Shale hurled flaming bodies into the horde as well as other debris, the fire crystals set in her stone flesh blazing brightly. To the left the insane dwarven warrior bellowed defiant challenge after challenge as he swung his massive axe in bloody swathes of destruction. Darting in and out of the fray, Oogie proved to be as valiant as his mistress as he ripped at the limbs of his prey bringing them down to be savaged. His tawny fur was caked black-red from the blood and Marlana refused to think about how there was no longer any more of the medicine to prevent the sickness from her hound.  
Fear and love kept her on her feet, guilt kept her fighting. Because she hadn't been there when Alistair got mobbed, she'd gotten pushed away in the mad rush. By the time she'd gotten to him he'd already gone down. Every so often she'd hear Wynne reassuring her that he still lived, but she wondered if that was just to keep her going in the face of such hopeless odds.  
As the Warden wondered if she had truly died and this was what happened to Wardens in death instead of going to the Maker, the attack stopped. She stood there with poisonous blood dripping down her blades, arms feeling like lead, the rest of her not in much better shape and stared in stupefaction. The darkspawn were simply…gone. And none of the pressure, not even distantly, of their presence echoed in her head. The only taint she felt was Alistair.  
No, not just Alistair. Oogie as well.  
Kneeling down to her hound, he bounded about her full of happiness that his human was alive and well, that he'd helped stop the bad prey. There was no sign of the sickness she'd seen in the mabari at Ostagar and guessed he had developed immunity to the Taint for now. Resting her hand on Oogie's shoulder, she slowly made her way over to Alistair, heart in her throat. Seeing Wynne drinking the oddly glowing blue potion gave Marlana the creeps for some reason. She knew that lyrium could bolster a mage's energy reserves, but having never seen Wynne needing to resort to so much of the stuff… She wondered if it was healthy for the mage.  
Grimly she knelt beside her fallen love and poured another healing brew down his throat. With Oghren's help, since she couldn't lift Alistair herself, pried off the templar's upper armor. Seeing the gaping wounds in his chest and abdomen, the pallor in the normally tanned skin…she gritted her teeth and proceeded to do her butcher's work of helping stitch and bandage his wounds as Wynne tried to heal the worst injuries. She didn't remember much after that, only that she reassured herself that her fellow companions (including the oddly sober dwarf) were not badly hurt.  
She did remember clearly Shale's surprising offer as she debated relocating from their current position, but wasn't sure how to transport Alistair. "I could carry it, it knows."  
Tiredly Lana looked up at the golem trying to figure out what she was talking about, "Which it are you talking about?"  
"The leaking one. Well, no longer leaking one if it wants to be more precise." The golem's expression was unreadable.  
Not believing she was hearing Shale correctly, "…Are you sure, Shale? I never wanted you to think you'd have to do something like that."  
"I wouldn't have offered to do so if I thought I was being forced to do so. It should know that by now." Now she looked indignant.  
Touched, but not wanting to offend her stony friend, Lana smiled a little, "It appreciates your offer."  
"Just so it knows, this IS a one time offer."  
With Shale playing the part of the packmule for the moment, they continued on through the thaig before finding a small stone building that seemed to have acted as a shed at one time. At least that was the closest Marlana could compare the structure to since the one room building had no windows and only the one door. Made out of the very living stone that surrounded it, the location made for an excellent location for camp. After a hasty meal, and changing Alistair's bandages, the exhausted group fell into a deep sleep.  
Except for Shale of course, and Marlana who couldn't let herself sleep just yet. She sat quietly by the small campfire they'd started, since there was enough air circulation to not smoke themselves out, and reviewed all that had happened with self-recrimination.  
She'd been a fool. They'd ventured into the Deep Roads before their current journey, but it had been a short trip to a well known thaig, even if it was abandoned. There'd been darkspawn, but not the numbers they had just dealt with, and those awful worms on legs the dwarves called deepstalkers. They'd gotten to Lord Dace as planned, and returned to the city with his expedition. Because of how well that had gone, she'd stupidly thought it wouldn't be that much worse for this expedition. Marlana had figured that there would be more darkspawn, and other denizens of the deep, but not the numbers they had encountered.  
Face it, she thought to herself, it's not just the numbers of darkspawn, it's the fact you're on another impossible quest. And once again everyone looks at you with the expectation that you'll succeed. Why do they always look at me? I'm not the only one doing this. Andraste's ass, even Prince Bhelen seems to have bought into the idiocy and he doesn't strike me as a stupid man.  
She'd been impressed despite herself with the dwarven prince. He was ruthless, and made no effort to hide it, but at the same time he clearly wanted to do something to improve his people's lot. Bhelen had seemed impressed at the tasks her group had accomplished for him, perhaps because outsiders had been able to do it? It hadn't been hard to convince Lord Dace to side with the prince after coming to his aid in the Aeducan Thaig. As for cleaning out the carta thugs…well it was mainly slaughter, and that, she thought bitterly, she was all too good at.  
Now they were in Ortan Thaig on the hunt for a missing paragon. She still had a hard time wrapping her mind around the dwarven ancestor worship, much less the fact a paragon was considered a living ancestor. But she could understand that such a person was important to the dwarves and why the only living paragon's support was what Bhelen needed. There was just a small catch.  
Branka, said paragon, had disappeared two years ago into the Deep Roads with her entire House, but no one knew what she'd gone searching for. There'd only been one member of the paragon's House left behind. Her husband, Oghren. Supposedly he'd once been a warrior of renown amongst his people, but was now nothing more than a drunken fool. As her group was setting off for their travel to Caridin's Cross as their first destination, he'd arrived panting, bearing arms and armor with a massive pack on his back with a demand to join her group. With some misgiving, she'd accepted what she thought was going to be a major liability.  
But he also had valuable information. He knew what Branka disappeared into the Deep Roads for: the legendary Anvil of the Void, said to have been made by the mastersmith Caridin to forge golems. She could feel Shale's interest pique at the dwarf's words. He'd also proven useful while searching for the missing paragon since he knew her habits: marking her path, where she was most likely to camp, etc. Because of his knowledge they were able to follow what would otherwise have been random marks that would have held no other meaning. Somewhat bemusedly she turned to regard the latest member of her menagerie.  
Who was currently snoring away in a heap in the corner reeking of whatever noxious booze he'd been swilling while he ate his meal. She'd been touched that he had given some of his stock to let her use to clean out Alistair's wounds before stitching him up, though she had been unnerved at how the wounds seemed to…fizzle as the liquid was poured onto them. She was just glad he'd been unconscious and couldn't feel it, the effect looked horrendously painful. Oghren had regarded the sight for a moment, grunted something about pansy ass humans before kicking over darkspawn corpses for anything useful.  
Shale rumbled at her as softly as the golem could, her words interrupting Marlana's train of thought, "It is aware that with there being only one door, it can sleep so it'll stop disturbing me with its flesh creature thoughts."  
Lana shook her head, "Can't sleep."  
The surprisingly mobile stone face quirked its brows up questioningly, "Can't or won't?"  
"It's the same either way."  
"Uh huh. Go sleep with its mate, as disgusting as the thought is, it will do both flesh creatures good. And it hasn't slept longer than a few hours a night since this mad journey started. If it falls over from no sleep, I won't be the one carrying it."  
She peered up at the golem, "Is that concern I hear?"  
"Perish the thought. I just don't want it passing out at the worst possible moment so that the other Warden will start wailing and gnashing its teeth."  
"Right, I must be tired, that almost made sense."  
The golem grinned to herself as the small human woman did as she suggested, but the expression quickly smoothed away as Lana paused and peered up at her. She nodded to herself as Lana carefully curled up next to Alistair's side and was soon fast asleep. Shale settled down to watch over her soft, squishy charges. While she'd never admit to concern for them when she saw Alistair shift in his sleep before settling an arm over Lana to keep her close, the golem couldn't help but smile. If he sought her in his sleep, he would be okay. Perish the thought that she'd let the wardens know she worried about them.


	17. Bownamar

First day, they come and catch everyone.  
The group paused and exchanged uneasy glances at that haunting whisper. They'd battled their way from the Ortan Thaig where they found Branka's journal detailing where she was heading with her House: The Dead Trenches. Once the fortress Bownammar of the Legion of the Dead, now home to countless darkspawn. It was believed to be suicidal for anyone to go to so deeply into the Deep Roads. Only the Legion went there these days, and even they did so cautiously.  
Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat.  
Before they left the Thaig, Marlana had found an ancient, tattered journal. Her dwarven was rudimentary at best, but Oghren wasn't exactly the most literate of dwarves and Shale lacked the dexterity to page through the book without tearing it apart. It proved to be from the smith Caridin, he who had made the golems upon the Anvil of the Void. The process was horrific: he placed a living dwarf into a shell of stone or metal, then filled the shell with molten lyrium. Shale hadn't reacted well to the thought that she'd once been a flesh creature and rarely spoke to anyone, even to Lana at night when the Warden woke from her nightmares to check to make sure her companions were well. The golem was even more determined to get to the Anvil to see if the journal was true.  
Third day, the men are all gnawed on again.  
Their trip to the Trenches had been disturbingly peaceful. None of the random darkspawn attacks they'd experienced until then. None of the corrupted spiders that fed on the tainted monsters, not even deepstalkers that had a tendency to attack anything that moved. There hadn't even been a whisper of pressure from the presence of darkspawn. The lack had concerned everyone until they arrived at the largest cavern they'd seen that didn't contain a thaig.  
It was as they approached a chasm in the cavern, that the two Wardens felt the overpowering pressure of a massive number of darkspawn. Peering down into the canyon they'd seen the floor was covered by what seemed to be a seething ocean of darkspawn traveling away from them. Then they felt something else, some other, awful Presence.  
Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate.  
A massive form flew up and out of the chasm to land on a nearby outcropping in the wall of the chasm. There, the corrupted dragon had screamed its carrion call to its ravenous horde, spitting out corrupted fire to accompany its "words". Neither human could understand what it said, but they could feel its hate, rage and hunger. Then it flew off in the direction the horde was going much to everyone's relief. Neither said anything, but both suspected the thing had sensed them and didn't care. There'd been nothing they could do, which was the worst part because it had been there and they couldn't go after it. The Taint in their blood was driving them near to madness from unrequited bloodlust to destroy their enemies. Enemies they couldn't go after since it would have been suicide. If it would have accomplished their duty to stop the Blight, they would have, but it would have been just a waste of their lives, so they gritted their teeth to continue on.  
They'd traveled along side the chasm for some time until they came across a small squad from the Legion battling stragglers from the horde. Alistair and Marlana had charged in to aid the dwarves with the mabari running along side his mistress. Oghren and Zevran weren't far behind, eager to try to forget the fear the sight of the Archdemon had caused in them all, Shale was with the two, ready to vent some of her rage upon something soft and squishy. Behind them Leliana fired arrow after arrow with devastating effect as each missile found a chink in armor, or went through an eye or throat.  
Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn.  
Clad in the green chased golden armor of his dead brother, due to the damage done to his blue and silver armor, Alistair wasn't overrun by the darkspawn this time. He fought beside his love, their movements a deadly, dangerous dance for all that came against them. The duo grinned fiercely at each other when they made it to the end of the bridge and to the gates of the ancient fortress. Behind them lay a trail of broken darkspawn corpses, and when more came pouring out they'd simply laughed and continued their slaughter.  
Kardol, the leader of the group of the Legion that they'd just helped, was grateful for their assistance, but was unable to tell them if there were any signs of Branka. He did recognize Oghren though and warned Marlana to be wary. "Drunks don't make good allies", was his grim comment.  
Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams.  
But at this point Oghren had proven himself again and again, while she didn't really enjoy talking with him, she could appreciate his skills as a warrior. Though she wouldn't say anything, she did notice that as time went on, he drank less, though he was still rude, crude and obnoxious. He certainly made conversations interesting, though not always in a good way.  
After one private conversation that left Alistair bright red, the former templar refused to be left alone with the dwarf again. He refused to tell Marlana what it was, saying that what the dwarf said was something no gentleman would repeat to his lady. Morbidly curious she asked Oghren who simply chortled and leered at her. She decided it was the better part of valor to let the subject drop. Though it seemed Oghren and Zev had a little competition going on to see who could get the former Chantry boy to blush brighter. They didn't dare try it with the young noblewoman.  
Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew.  
So they proceeded into the very depths of Bownammar, fighting darkspawn the entire time. Wondering how they could have so many still present with the numbers that had been heading towards the surface. But the darkspawn were there, so they proceeded to methodically clean them out of the area, at least temporarily.  
It was while they were in what seemed to be a mausoleum for the Legion that they found the hole that had been made in the living rock. The hole proved to be the entrance to a tunnel. As they began to cautiously explore the area they heard a woman's voice began a sing-song chant in a rasping, haunting voice full of madness and despair.  
Eighth day, we hated as she is violated.  
Continuing down the tunnel, they found the warped and fleshy growths they'd come to associate with long term habitation of darkspawn. Though the four who had gone through the Tower during Uldred's rebellion still wondered at the similarities between the growths around the darkspawn and the growths present at the Tower. There hadn't been any darkspawn present there, only demons and abominations. And the Veil wasn't weakened in this area like it had been at the Tower. All they could do was to keep going, making notes about what they found as they sought out the signs of the missing paragon.  
They just hoped to find some sign of her, they'd given up on finding her alive.  
Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin.  
That chant echoed in their hearts as well as their minds, and the three women all exchanged worried looks. There hadn't been any seeming communication amongst the men, but soon Lana found herself in the center of the group with Wynne and Leliana. Around them the two warriors, the assassin and the golem formed a kind of protective guard. One look at Alistair's thin lipped, grim expression killed any arguments that she might've made. Sideways glances proved to have the similar expressions on the faces of the dwarf and elf. She couldn't twist around to check on Shale, but the golem seemed to loom even more than usual.  
Now she does feast, as she's become the beast.  
Around one final corner they came to a room that stank of an abattoir and amongst the rampant fleshy growths they could see torn and bloody corpses of dwarves. Kneeling next to…something was what appeared to be a dwarven woman holding a bloody object, and from her came the unsettling chant.  
Not seeing any immediate danger, Marlana gently pushed her way past Alistair to slowly approach the woman who was already turning around in jerky motions to regard them. She shook as she regarded the slim human female before her, while Marlana tried to hide her dismay. The dwarf's skin was unnaturally pale with dark lesions and her eyes were covered by a film that had an unclean light to them. It was the same appearance of Gwen that she'd seen time and time again in her nightmares. Now she wondered if her twisted dreamscapes had been trying to tell her what the Taint did to a person.  
Gently, Marlana spoke to the swaying dwarf, "Hello."  
The dwarf stared with seemingly unseeing eyes and spoke to herself in disbelieving tones, "What is this? A human? Bland and unlikely. Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers' faces and open doors."  
Closer, the Warden could feel the other woman's corruption, but it seemed…different from those that had been Tainted, she stretched out her right hand to the dwarf, "If you take my hand, you'll feel that I am no dream. Let us help you."  
Almost violently the woman shook her head, "No, you can't. There's nothing left. There's body and there's hope, and both are turning… They come. They… they vomit, they violate, and they chant. They scream, oh, how they scream… Then the change comes."  
"Change? What change?"  
"You know. You bear their corruption also, my cruel dream."  
The long silver-white braid swished as it was Lana's turn to shake her head, "I'm a Warden, it's not the same." She looked at the bloody gobbet in the dwarf's hand, and despite herself, her voice echoed her horror, "They forced you to eat your kin?"  
Shrugging, the woman ate the gobbet before continuing, it took all of Marlana's formidable will not to get sick. She didn't dare look at how the others were faring. The dwarf's voice filled with revulsion, "And others. Fresh, not those who turn. Killed right here. And we're fed. Laryn was first. But I am filled. I am… All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?"  
Behind her came Oghren's rumble, the normally imperturbable dwarf's voice was tight with fear and anger, "Sodding Ancestors! That's Hespith! She was part of the House. What in the name of the Stone is going on here?"  
Hespith didn't seem to register Oghren's outburst, her odd eyes fixed on Marlana.  
Still trying to be gentle, Marlana continued her questioning, "Endure what, Hespith? What change are you talking about?"  
"What they are allowed to do. What they think they must. And Branka…" The indifference cracked into a terrible grief, "Her lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her… but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she has become."  
Hesitantly, Marlana reached out and lightly placed her hand on Hespith's shoulder, trying to offer comfort to the obviously distraught woman. Even through the thick cloth of Hespith's clothing, she could feel the fever consuming the other woman, "What did Branka do, Hespith?"  
"I will not speak of her! Of what she did, of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!" Desperate and frantic, Hespith fled the room.  
Not thinking about it, Marlana tried to follow but the dwarf knew the area better and quickly disappeared from sight. Troubled she turned to her friends, Alistair in particular, unspoken questions in her eyes. He shook his head, just as troubled, "I don't know either, Lana. I've never heard of anything like this. I was still learning myself, when Ostagar…happened."  
She sucked in a deep breath and instantly regretted it as she gagged on the charnel house stench. "Let's keep moving, maybe we'll find Branka or…something."  
Oghren looked around the place looking troubled, but didn't say anything except to take a swig out of the seemingly never ending flask of booze he carried. For once Lana couldn't yell at him for that, what they'd seen so far… What was Hespith turning into? Who was this Laryn? And what had Laryn turned into? It was clear that Branka had given part or all of her House to the darkspawn. The thought that someone could betray her people in such a manner…  
Bhelen had hinted that it might be best that Branka didn't return from the Deep Roads. If the paragon had betrayed her House the way Hespith was implying… The only living paragon, if she were still alive, might not be for very long. Once it might have troubled her to think so casually about killing someone, but that had been burned out at some point. Or maybe it wasn't burned out, but the horror of what had been done to Hespith, what had happened to this unknown Laryn. Death would be too kind, but Marlana wouldn't give into the temptation of torture. That was a darker road than even she was willing to walk.  
She became obsessed… That is the word, but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there was nothing left in her but the Anvil.  
Trepidatiously, they continued into another chamber, this one larger and fortunately not full of the disgusting growths or dwarves slaughtered like meat animals. Of course there were darkspawn, but fighting them was a habit now, and it was cleansing in a way. But Marlana wondered…had these been dwarves once? Corrupted in the manner that Hespith had been? She'd been told of ghouls, of course most knew of those poor souls that were Tainted, but was it possible for the corruption to take a different path?  
We tried to escape, but they found us. They took us all, turned us… The men, they kill… they're merciful. But the women, they want. They want to touch, to mold, to change until you are filled with them…  
Marlana wished desperately to ignore Hespith's voice, and the atrocious acts she was trying to describe. Yet she couldn't, the violated dwarf might still be able to provide information they needed. There was none of the usual banter or warcries amongst her companions as they continued to kill darkspawn in their explorations. Then they found another tunnel. This one with even more rampant growths to the point where the floor under foot was soft and made disgusting sounds as it was tread on. Alistair, Oghren and Shale left footprints behind them, the indentations filling with some sort of dark, foul smelling liquid.  
They took Laryn. They made her eat the others, our friends. She tore off her husband's face and drank his blood.  
Marlana stopped at those words and shook. Fear and revulsion filled her, was this why the Wardens avoided recruiting women? Had Duncan known and that is why he so easily accepted her father's initial denial? Was this her fate when she heard her Calling? Hespith's recitation continued unabated, and still shaking with fear, she wiped the tears away and braced herself. She still had her duty, she'd worry about her gruesome fate later.  
And while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned gray and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them.  
Sick with horror, the group continued their trek down that distorted and twisted tunnel. As they came out, they entered a large room that stank of the darkspawn corruption, and no sign of the living stone that was buried under the warped and twisted fibrous tissue. In the center was a ghastly, grey thing. Huge, it seemed to be a mountain of slimy grey flesh, their minds refused to fully see it at first. But then the small head at the top turned its repulsive gaze at them and an unnaturally long tongue slithered out of the too wide mouth to lick its lips in hunger. That was when they realized the front of it was covered in distorted breasts that shook and wobbled in a nauseating fashion as it threw its head back and screamed as more fleshy things erupted out of the growth to lash out at them. And still Hespith whispered.  
Broodmother.  
It was only battle hardened instincts that made them avoid the flailing tentacles. Instinct kept them going as the horrors seen and heard in Bownammar caught up to them. Not only did they have to contend with the tentacles and the darkspawn the screaming abomination called. It also spat poison at them and spewed more vile substances. In the end it fell to the Grey Wardens to deal with the abhorrent thing while the others kept the tentacles and "normal" darkspawn off them.  
There was a high pitched screaming as the two fought the Broodmother. Alistair using his shield as much for attacking as for protection keeping the awful thing's attention on him as Marlana tried to do what she could to eviscerate the thing, but the tissues of the thing seemed to simply sink under her blows without actually being parted. Even when she used stabbing attacks only, the flesh seemed unnaturally resistant. But she did see an alternative…  
Not allowing herself to think about what she was doing, she used her blades as pitons to help her scale up the monstrous creature. It quivered under her movements, but she hung on, riding with its movements, continuing on when she could. Finally she was on its…back, raised her blades and drove the tips straight down into the broodmother's head. Raised and drove them down again and again until the head became a bloody, pulpy mess. Continued to hammer at it even as the head was completely gone and the body's death throes ended.  
She didn't realize she'd been the source of the screaming until everything else was silent and Alistair was quietly calling her name. Falling silent, she couldn't look at him, any of them. A whisper of movement made her look up, wondering what new horror was coming at them. Only it was Hespith, looking down at her, still the corrupted dwarf only acknowledged her and some part of the Grey Warden that wasn't consumed by her terror wondered if that was because of their shared Taint.  
"That's where they come from. That's why they hate us… That's why they need us. That's why they take us… That's why they feed us."  
Hespith slowly climbed up the only rocky outcrop behind the broodmother's reeking corpse. "But the true abomination… is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka… my love…"  
Marlana swallowed dryly, then forced her tortured throat to speak, "Let us help you, Hespith. There must be some way."  
The dwarven woman shook her head, "Ah dream-friend, the Stone has punished me. I am dying. But of something worse than death."  
"Betrayal."  
A grimaced smile tugged at Hespith's mouth, "You have helped me as much as you can. You gave me the freedom to act. Thank you, dream-friend."  
Then the dwarf jumped from sight. When she didn't feel the tainted presence of the other woman, Marlana knew what Hespith had done and why.  
Woodenly she made her way down the gigantic corpse and staggered away. Seeing another tunnel, one made of proper stone and none of the…other stuff, she started to head toward it, wanting to get away from the living nightmare. When she reached the cleaner air of the tunnel, she gulped it in as the reaction to what she'd seen and did sank in making the shakes even worse.  
Marlana tried to gain control, but found herself weeping, over Laryn, and Hespith. And what she had to look forward to in a little under thirty years. She had to be strong, had to stay focused, yet when she tried to, she found herself on her knees vomiting. When there was nothing left, not even bile, she continued to dry heave.  
A touch of power warmed her chilled body, soothing her enough to let her stop the retching. Then she realized that she was being held against an armored form as he gently wiped her face with a damp rag. She took a few cautious sips from a proffered waterbag as Alistair quietly spoke, "If I can, Lana, when the time comes, I hope I'll be there to go with you, but I don't know, there's enough time between us…"  
"No matter when your time comes, my love, I'll go with you. And not just because of…" She couldn't say it. Later she'd be able to speak of it, but now if she tried, she would be lost forever. He didn't say anything, he didn't have to as he held her close to try to forget the horrors of the day.


	18. Meeting With A King

The king's office proved to be surprisingly comfortable besides being very businesslike. Out of courtesy, he'd offered a human sized chair, but she'd smilingly declined, Marlana was too polite to say so, but unlike the rest of her group, she was short enough that dwarven furniture wasn't uncomfortable for her. As Bhelen finished reading the report he'd been working on when she arrived at his request she took a careful sip of the wine he'd poured for her. Not because she was worried he'd poison her, but because she was still didn't have a chance to get all of the rest her body was looking for since the eventful arrival at Orzammar the previous morning. And she didn't want the alcohol to go to her head.  
The newly crowned king sighed as he finished reading, scribbled something on the bottom and set it aside. He took a healthy drink from his tankard as if to wash away a bad taste from his mouth, "I take it that there was a great deal you didn't tell the Assembly yesterday."  
Marlana wasn't surprised at his straightforwardness; it was how he'd dealt with her from their first meeting. He'd left the sweet talking to Gavorn, who apparently was much better at such things. She nodded wearily, "Indeed, your majesty, there were things I'm fairly sure you don't want as general knowledge."  
"Such as Branka's true fate?"  
"Oh, she did die in the Deep Roads on her self-imposed quest."  
He settled back into his chair with his hands folded over his stomach and regarded her with deceptively heavy-lidded eyes.  
She smiled slightly and raised her goblet in acknowledgement, "Well, I did leave out the fact I ended up killing her." The noblewoman's expression tightened with remembered anger and horror, "She did worse than destroy her House, she betrayed them to the darkspawn."  
That caused Bhelen to sit up and stare at her in shock, "She what?"  
The memory of what happened to Laryn and Hespith rose up in her mind causing her to abruptly get to her feet and pace restlessly as she tried to shake off her horror. "Because of what she did to Hespith, and worse to Laryn, we learned how the darkspawn are able to build up their numbers. Why they take prisoners, especially women."  
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hide her sickened fear, "They…well. I won't go into details, Majesty, but it's the worst fate I can think of. Let's just say they corrupt women into becoming darkspawn. They're called broodmothers, they…act like some sort of monstrous, gigantic insect queen. I've written up a report for the other Wardens if I can ever get it to them."  
She rubbed her temples, "If you want your share of the nightmares, I'll give a copy to you."  
"Want? No, but anything that can help us against the darkspawn would be welcome."  
"Very well, I'll get a copy to you."  
There was silence for a bit, before the king shook his head trying to banish his revulsion at the little he'd been told. Judging by the Warden's haunted expression, he had a feeling he was in for some sleepless nights when he did read her report. Bhelen finally asked, "I take it that's not all Branka did?"  
"No, she trapped some of us to do what the darkspawn failed to do. Get past Caridin's traps to get to the Anvil of the Void."  
A crash of metal, Oogie's howl at being separated from his human. The frantic hammering on the other side that stopped abruptly. Alistair's grim voice, "Keep safe. We'll find another way around." Branka's arrogant posturing. Oghren's indignant anger used to cover up old pain. As Branka walked away, Shale's venomous, "Hag."  
That got his attention and his words made her shake off her reveries, "Ancestors! The Anvil? It really exists?"  
"Existed," she said tightly. "I destroyed it at Caridin's request and even if he hadn't, I would have anyway considering the price exacted."  
"What? Are you insane, woman? More golems would help my people!"  
Frozen blue eyes stared at him almost expressionlessly and the dwarven king realized that there was indeed something wrong with this human. One of her companions had sung of the young woman's exploits, he had honestly thought it was a singer's exaggeration, but he could see death promised in those eyes. And he wondered if it was possible the minstrel had downplayed some of her abilities.  
Her voice was so very calm, "Perhaps, but I won't allow blood magic, no matter what it's called. Your people are few enough, would you slaughter them wholesale to make your golems?"  
Bhelen was taken back, "I think maybe you should start from the beginning about the Anvil."  
That frozen look didn't thaw even a little as she spoke flatly, "He placed them in shells of stone and steel, poured molten lyrium into the openings and forged them as they screamed to death in pure agony. At first it was volunteers, then the casteless, then those who were politically inconvenient. And then there were the control rods. They were used to make thinking beings mindless slaves."  
He didn't know what to say, even as she tossed the battered book she'd brought with her onto the desk before him, "That's his journal where he speaks of the anvil and the price. You didn't see that…abomination. It was beautiful yes, but full of voices of the anguished dead. I was not going to allow one more soul to be added to that…thing."  
Troubled, he nodded, not wanting to see her set off. Carefully, "So you truly did speak with Caridin."  
"Yes, I did. At the end he regretted what he did. Branka…" The depth of hate in her voice shook him, "She refused to understand what she did. Betrayal is bad enough, but the manner… It's worse than what Howe did to my family, what Loghain did at Ostagar, is doing to Ferelden." She started pacing again, "You know that a leader has a duty and responsibility to his people to lead them well, Branka only saw her House as the means to get what she wanted. She didn't care about any of them, even the ones who loved her."  
She shook her head, "I'm sorry, your majesty. I didn't mean to go off like that. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"  
There were a thousand questions and none. He was wise enough to see that she was still on the ragged edge of exhaustion and realized. Being honest with himself, he really didn't want to hear anymore of what the Warden had found, settling the chaos of his city was going to be bad enough. He forced himself to smile a little, "I trust you'll remain for the festivities?"  
Marlana regarded the king thoughtfully, "Are you sure you want the disruptive surfacers to stick around causing more trouble?"  
"Since your troublemaking put me on my throne, I'd feel like an ungrateful brute to just send you on your way."  
Pale brows raised up slightly, yet a faint smile tugged at her mouth, "Don't worry, majesty, we don't overstay our welcome."  
After a few minor pleasantries she left to both the relief of both. Returning to the boarding house she'd once again rented, Lana quietly slipped into her room, fully expecting Alistair to already be asleep. But she wasn't greeted by his quiet snoring, instead the lanterns were still lit and it sounded like he was splashing around in the bathing chamber. A smile lit up her face as she wondered if he was going to be in there much longer.  
She placed her blades on the temporary rack that had been set up for them, then kicked off her boots. Freeing her hair from its ribbon, she called out loud enough for Alistair to hear her without disturbing anyone else, "I'm back, love."  
To her disappointment the splashing stopped, "I'll be out in a moment. So how'd it go?"  
She grimaced to herself, "Probably as bad as we all expected, but he wants us to…"  
Lana couldn't help trailing off at seeing Alistair standing in the doorway toweling his hair. His well muscled chest and abdomen were still glistening with water. Then adding in the fact he was wearing only the leather pants he wore under his armor made for an interesting distraction. When he quirked his eyebrow up in his unique way completely did her in as he asked, "What does he want us to do now."  
The room suddenly got very warm and all thoughts of Bhelen were forgotten as she watched him start to dry off his upper body, seemingly oblivious of the effect on her. "Who wants what?"  
"Um, Bhelen? You know, the dwarf you crowned king yesterday?"  
"I don't remember and I don't care." She slowly walked over to him, eyes sparkling up at him and slowly slid her hand down his chest, following the faint line of hair that ran down his stomach, her voice was husky as she said, "What I want right now is to go to bed."  
He grinned at her, especially at the heated look in her eyes as he tossed aside the towel to pull her against him, trapping her hand at the edge of his pants between them. Even when they were alone without the chance of anyone overhearing them, her natural reserve usually kept her invitations to something subtler. And since finding Hespith, she understandably had no interest in sex. With his free hand he cupped her face and tilted it up as he leaned down to lightly brush his lips against hers, more teasing and tempting than actually indulging in his hunger. When Alistair lifted his head up he kept his hand on her cheek and smiled again at the glitter in her eyes.  
Lana growled a little at the tease, but her lips curved up into that wicked smile he loved as her clever fingers of her trapped hand started to tickle him. Involuntarily he sucked his gut in, giving her enough room to move her hand, but instead of moving it away, she slowly trailed the tips of her fingers down and under the band of his pants. His breath caught in his throat as she started in on the sensitive flesh, "Maker's breath."  
He drew on his hard won discipline to grab her wrist and pull her hand up and away while trying to fend off the other hand, "There's one problem with your little plan", to the frustrated woman.  
"And that is?"  
"You're wearing way too much clothing."  
Frustration changed to amusement as she regarded his hands holding her wrists, "You know, you don't have enough hands to do something about it and keep me from distracting you."  
His answer to that was pulling her to the bed as she laughingly "tried" to escape his grip. It lead to a wrestling match got their blood going as they tried to see who would be more successful, Lana in getting his pants off or Alistair getting her clothes off. He finally won just by flopping down on her, using his greater weight to pin her down as he started to pull her shirt up, which meant moving off her enough to do so. To distract her, he got back at Lana by tickling her sides while removing said shirt, though in the process he couldn't resist skimming his hands along the edges of her breasts when he got high enough.  
Breathless and flushed from Alistair's successful "attack", she looked up at him through the hair that had fallen into her face, before she could say anything, he finally gave in to kiss her long, slow and deeply.  
It was along time before they got any sleep.


	19. Winter At The Peak

The deceptively plain silver chalice waited on the table before her. Its contents looked as appetizing as the original foul concoction she'd been forced to drink at her Joining, but it didn't smell of blood. The cool sapphire gaze shifted from the chalice to the old man on the opposite side of the table. He grimaced at the unvoiced questions, "Yes, yes I know how you feel about my previous research, but I swear that I haven't experimented on anyone. But if anyone could benefit from the results, it would be you, Commander."  
Marlana crossed her arms, "I don't see why you keep you calling me that, Avernus. And really, why would I want to drink something that's potentially worse than the Joining?"  
"Bah. You're the one leading the Wardens, such as they are at the moment, so it's only right. And it's no riskier than the Joining. That's the point of it, Commander, is to reduce the risk in the Joining. Not to mention unlocking the power in the blood of a Warden, especially in one like yourself."  
She eyed the ancient mage warily, "Why is it everyone keeps going on about some sort of power in me? I'm just a woman, not even a mage. First there was Flemeth going on about my potential, then Uldred about what I'd be like with a demon in me." Both shuddered at the thought of being possessed, and she continued, "Then there was that demon in Connor, it had a hard time focusing on me and kept asking what I was."  
Avernus sighed, "It's hard to describe, Commander. There is a power in you, whether you had it before you became a Grey Warden, I cannot say. But it is there now, more as potential than anything else. I have seen you in the Fade when you dream and your spirit is a brilliant blaze of light, a thing I have never seen before in a human that wasn't a mage. And I've never seen a mage look like that either. How it happened, I don't know."  
She scrubbed at her face and found herself telling him about the events in the Tower, especially when she'd been a captive of the sloth demon. He listened intently, only asking questions to clarify what she'd seen and touched while in the Fade. When the tale finally ended, he slowly walked over to a nearby chair and sank into it wearily. Clearly mulling over what she had related he spoke thoughtfully, "I know of such wells of energy, though you rarely find so many at once, but like the spirits and demons, they are the essences of the aspects of a sentient being such as a human or elf. Their effects do carry over to the body if any of them are physical in nature."  
Grabbing another chair, Marlana sat down with the high back of the chair in front of her with her chin on her crossed arms over the back, "So that explains the speed, but not whatever this… power is."  
"I'll have to give it more thought, but for now, I believe it's an accumulation of all you've been through."  
"Avernus, I'm not the only one who has gone through this insanity. Alistair has been pretty much through everything with me."  
He shuddered, "You would remind me of your pet templar. Commander, a templar outside of the Chantry the way he is, is positively unnatural."  
A grin lit up her expression making her eyes dance with mischief, "I think you're the first mage that Alistair has managed to unnerve, that should make his day."  
"Mages aren't afraid of him?"  
Dryly, "You obviously haven't talked to him much. Wynne just pinches his cheeks when he tries to be "templarish" in his words, and Morrigan just sneers. The other mages we've encountered just get annoyed." She thought about it for a moment, "The same with templars for that matter."  
The mage shuddered again then fixed a gimlet eye on her, "And you're very effective at distracting people from subjects you don't want to talk about, Commander. Now, more than ever I think you might benefit the most from my alchemical research. The worst thing that will happen is nothing, the best not only will reduce the effects of the Taint, but it will also unlock more of the power in your blood."  
Troubled, she got to her feet and started to pace, "Maker's Breath! People are already terrified of me, this will only make it worse."  
He waved his hands as if shooing flies away, "Tsk, let the little idiots worry about themselves. You have a Blight to deal with, even though there's nothing you can do in the winter. You need every advantage you can get. This will be just one more arrow in your quiver."  
Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, "And there's nothing useful you can tell me about killing the Archdemon? Or how to find it?"  
Avernus actually gave her a sympathetic look, "I am truly sorry about that, Commander, but I joined the Wardens during their decline in Ferelden just before Sophia dragged the Wardens into the rebellion. And I was more interested in research anyway, which was encouraged not just by Sophia, but by Weisshaupt. You probably know more about darkspawn than I do."  
"Great, just great", she muttered as she stalked over to the table to glower at the vile brew that Avernus had made. Without letting herself think over what she was about to do, she grabbed the goblet and tossed down its contents in a gulp. And promptly fell over as a terrible blaze burned its way through her system. Unlike the Joining the agony didn't last long, didn't involve horrific nightmares and even better didn't threaten to come back up. Shivering a little at the rush as part of the aftereffects, Marlana cautiously sat up, then got to her feet. She didn't feel much different, but it felt like a hint of that fire was still in her veins, but it wasn't painful. When she reported what she felt, the mage nodded absently, already thinking over the results. He didn't dare ask for any of her blood as a sample.  
Since it looked like she would survive and there were no dramatic results, Marlana found herself ushered out of the tower and the usual barrier over the door. She wrapped her heavy cloak around her as Alistair nonchalantly took up his customary place at her right from where he'd been leaning against the wall of the Tower. He chose to wait outside during her visit because of how nervous the mage got around him and because of his innate desire to smite a maleficar. His warm, brown eyes studied her for a moment, "So Avernus finally talked you into his little experiment", his voice was carefully bland.  
Guiltily she nodded. Alistair hadn't precisely gotten upset the first time she discussed Avernus trying to convince her to use the results of his experiments on her occasional visits with the reclusive mage. But he wasn't happy with the idea either. Her presence was the only one the mage could tolerate, something that told her that he recognized a fellow monster. Since they'd gotten up earlier than usual that morning to spar, Avernus had sent a message requesting to speak with her. He'd been meeting her briefly at least once a week since they'd arrived at Soldier's Peak trying to talk her into taking the alchemical concoction he'd come up with. This was the longest meeting thus far and he'd finally worn away her resistance to doing anything to change the Taint in her blood.  
His breath came out as a cloud of steam in the cold air as he sighed, "Anything to help with the Blight, I suppose. You're feeling all right?"  
She nodded again at his concerned tone, "I'm fine, why? Do I look different?"  
"No, but you feel different. I can still sense the Taint, but it doesn't feel the same."  
A flutter of fear rose up inside her, "Like…" She couldn't bring herself to say it, even now a month after leaving Orzammar.  
"What? Oh! No, nothing like that, love", he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they left the bridge connecting the Tower to the rest of the fortress. "It's just different, you still feel like a Warden, but not." The young man grinned down at her, brown eyes almost golden with laughter, "If you feel like eating human flesh, I hope I'm the last one to know."  
She cast up a sly look back up at him, "Oh, I do, but not quite in the way you meant."  
Alistair actually blushed at her comment as he grinned at her, "You are a horribly wicked woman. And a tempting one. How can a poor guy who lived in the Chantry all his life resist your evil ways?"  
"Oh, you're a fine one to talk. I seem to remember you being the first one to make a move on little innocent me."  
"You? Innocent? Ha!"  
"Well, I was until I fell under your evil charm", she laughed up at him.  
With a mock growl about "evil charm" he swept her up in his arms and carried her back to their room.  
Laying in his arms afterward, her head on his chest, hearing the reassuringly steady beat of his heart as he ran one hand through her sweat soaked hair, Lana decided that she was glad she'd talked the others into spending the rest of the winter at the Peak. Eamon had made it known that they were still welcome at Redcliffe, and Bhelen had let it be known officially and unofficially that Orzammar would be glad to continue hosting the Wardens and their allies. There was even the Sheaf back in Denerim, but spending more than a few weeks in the city was asking for more trouble. She supposed the weather would keep the Dalish in one place, but with how brutal the winter was proving to be…  
"Sovereign for your thoughts?" The gentle question interrupted her mental excuses to herself to stop the guilt for not pursing the last treaty immediately.  
She wrinkled her nose at him, "They're probably worth a copper, at the most."  
"Uh huh, let me be the judge of that. Let me guess, you're feeling guilty about not being out in that all Maker forsaken weather risking frostbite and pneumonia, if not worse, looking for people that are more likely to feather us before giving us the chance to introduce ourselves as Grey Wardens."  
"I'm that predictable?" She asked ruefully.  
A quiet laugh, "Only to those of us who know how single minded you can be. Which isn't a bad thing. Particularly when dealing with maleficarum, abominations, insane cultists, and even crazier dwarves. Oh, yes, and darkspawn. Mustn't forget them."  
She shifted so she could look up at him, irritatedly shoving a tangled lock of hair out of her face, but still mostly laying across him. Alistair just smirked at her before turning serious as he sat up in bed and pulled her up with him, "Honestly, Marlana, how long do you think we could keep going without a rest? I know it's longer than either of us cares for, but we all need it. I don't know what Morrigan and Sten were up to while we were down in that pit, but I know they were busy also." He paused for a moment, "Besides, we won't always be on the road forever you know. There'll come a time for us to leave the road and find a permanent place to live. Maybe even a place we can call home. And I think you need to remember what having a place to call your own is like."  
He never failed to surprise her. He could seem so oblivious and like a large, bumbling puppy, then turn around and show her how well he knew her. And right now, Alistair had her fixed with a piercing, eagle like gaze. Those golden eyes were filled with challenge.  
"I don't know if I can call the Peak a place of our own."  
"Maybe not, but it's a start. Even if it is an old, drafty barn of a fortress."  
She smiled as she absently ran her hand along his chest, fingertips lightly stirring the fine hairs, "At least we have each other to keep warm."  
He laughed, "That we do", then he looked down at her thoughtfully, "Though I didn't think Bhelen was that generous in his thanks to be able to get the material we did to make this part of the Keep livable. Or hire on the help we've got now."  
With a sigh her smile faded, "Most of the help were hired by the Drydens, we're just splitting the cost. And no, King Bhelen wasn't that generous, though he was far more so than I expected. And yes, you wouldn't like some of the work I did in Denerim and…elsewhere. Though my…contacts were careful about the work they offered. And I was even more careful about what I accepted."  
Alistair had gone still and she couldn't look up at him to see the condemnation in his eyes. Rolling onto her side away from him, she debated getting out of the bed to get dressed and go. It didn't matter where, just somewhere she didn't have to see the disgust in his eyes. But that was the coward's way and she wasn't going to run. At least, not yet. But she couldn't face him either.  
With his continued silence, she sighed, "Alistair, I don't know how many times I have to keep telling everyone, I'm not a good person, or a nice one. But I like to think that I keep my promises and despite being here for however long during winter, I don't shirk my duty. And part of my duty is to make sure everyone is taken care of. Unfortunately, part of that requires gold to do so."  
"So you really are the Dark Wolf everyone was talking about in Denerim?"  
Baffled she rolled over to see him still propped up in bed with his arms behind his head looking thoughtful, "Yes."  
There was a glint of humor in his eyes as he glanced at her, "Just proves they don't know you at all."  
She watched him warily as he continued, "I mean, look at you. You're hardly wolfish, or dark. And you're female, which is the funniest thing because they all assumed you're a man. Which I'm glad you're not. Not male, that is. Because then I wouldn't have this amazing and beautiful woman in my bed with me who is clearly thinking I've lost it this time. If I ever had it. Whatever it was." He finished with a toothy grin at her expression.  
Before Lana could say anything in response, he continued, "Anyway, let's get going, I'm starving. For food, my wicked lady."  
Laughing despite herself, Marlana got out of bed to get dressed. As they left their room, he lightly touched her shoulder, "Lana, this is probably going to sound awkward, but I think you need to hear it. I know you trust me, and generally trust the others. But you need to start learning to trust yourself and know that I trust you. And to accept the fact that the only way you'll lose me is if you do something pretty extreme. Doing what you can to keep us alive and well, and taken care of isn't extreme."  
More than a little flustered she watched him silently as he started heading down the stairs to the dining hall before following him.  
"Heh, figures the two lovebirds would show up in time for lunch. Damn Wardens, don't know where you put all of it", Oghren rumbled. The dwarf's comment was only half-hearted and the sharp eyed young woman saw how he had his back to the interior wall of the dining hall while eyeing the windows warily. Wondering what was wrong now, she looked up and saw snow coming down. Relieved, she considered how to talk to Oghren about it, again, as the two Wardens loaded their plates from the food laid out buffet style on the sideboard.  
As they returned to the table, Alistair asked, "I saw you looking at the snow, what's going on now?"  
Since the snowfall looked to be slightly damp, but light and fluffy enough to encourage play, rather than hiding in the ancient, drafty, fortress, she smiled a little, "Just thinking about how long it's been since I was able to play in the snow."  
The thought of it made Oghren pale and choke on whatever he was drinking out of his tankard, "Sodding Ancestors, woman! You want to play out in that, that…"  
"It's just snow, it's not that bad."  
"There's white crap fallin' outta the sky, Warden! That ain't right!" He stopped and thought about it for a moment, "Well, at least it's falling and not getting sucked up…"  
Lana coughed as she almost choked on her mouthful of food as Alistair snickered. Oghren started to puff up indignantly, but then fixed a hazy eye on Alistair, "At least I'm not a pike-twirler."  
Watching the younger warrior blush, Lana cleared her throat, "So, do I want to know why you keep calling him that, Oghren?"  
Alistair simply muttered under his breath while turning redder as Oghren chortled at his expense. She looked from man to dwarf and back again, "Well?"  
The dwarf took a long gulp of whatever, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, "Well, as I told Wynne, you didn't see him twirling his pike in the wood on the way here, an –"  
"Maker's breath, Oghren! You don't need to keep repeating that!" Lana managed to keep a straight face at Alistair's reaction as she turned her attention back to her food. She hadn't intended to embarrass her beloved, but she had managed to distract the dwarf from his fear from the snow. She thought he'd be used to weather by now since they'd seen enough of it, but had to remind herself he'd only been on the surface for a month now.  
When he saw her eying the snow again which caused Alistair to nudge her, "So what's going on in that devious little brain of yours?"  
She dimpled up at him, "I thought it might be fun and go play outside. Want to join?"  
Oghren shuddered at their words, then grumbled an agreement when Lana gave him a challenging look with those big blue eyes of hers. She didn't say anything, she didn't have to, even with the seemingly oblivious dwarf the light of battle in her eyes was all that was needed to goad him into at least trying.  
When the three went outside, they saw Leliana and Zevran standing with their backs to the stairs doing something. Gesturing for silence at the two men with her, Lana bent down to scoop up some snow, as she lightly packed it into a ball she was delighted to see she was right that it was the perfect type of snow. Eyes dancing with mischief, she winged the snowball with perfect aim to hit the elf right in the back of his head.  
Zev mock glared at her over his shoulder, "Hey now, that's no fair using my tricks against me!"  
Then it was his turn to lob a snowball, but got Alistair instead as Marlana laughingly ducked out of the way. Grinning, the former templar scooped up his own ball of snow and sent it flying, only to get Leliana instead of Zev. It wasn't long before the five them, including Oghren, were laughing, running and throwing snowballs at each other.  
The snowball fight ended when Shale decided to join in by grabbing an armful of snow and dumping it on the nearest squishies. Or squishy as the case may be, since Lana was the only one who got buried. Sputtering, she dug her way out and decided that she was going to go inside to change into dry clothes and warm up. Dried and changed she went back to the chamber they were using as a common room. Laughter and music greeted her before she even got there, smiling she peeked in to see what they were up to before entering.  
Not surprisingly Leli was holding forth with her lute while Oghren, Zev, Shale and Alistair were the source of the majority of the laughter. Wynne sat nearby smiling as she listened to the four while knitting, a basket of her supplies sat next to her. Lana was surprised to see Sten nearby, but then she saw the plates of cookies along with pitchers with steaming rising from them and grinned, knowing the Qunari's fondness of sweets. In a corner looking a little wild-eyed was Morrigan who was attempting to be sociable. The grin broadened as she entered the room to the greetings of her friends.  
Zevran handed her a mug of hot, mulled wine with a little flourish and in the warmth from the fire and friendship, the light in Alistair's eyes as he smiled at her, guilt fell away. They needed the respite of wintering in Soldier's Peak and she wondered if she could convince the others to make a snowman on the morrow.  
After all, she had to remember life was more than just fighting, death and tragedy. It was also the things worth fighting for.


	20. A Private Celebration

"So, when were you going to tell me?" Alistair asked Marlana as the two finished their morning sparring. While the rest of the group were willing to workout with Alistair, they flat out refused to do so with Lana, even when they were wearing full armor and she was using wooden practice weapons. So they tended to end up sparring against each other instead. Since both of them couldn't shake being early risers from being on the road, they had the salle to themselves as the others still slept.  
Confused, she paused in tending to her arms and armor to stare at him blankly as she asked, "Tell you what?"  
"What day is it?"  
"Um, the fifteenth of Drakonis? I think. Specific dates haven't been too clear since the whole Blight thing has us on the road so much." Oh, she knew what day it was, but she wasn't eager to actually celebrate what it meant. Especially with how different things had been the year before.  
"Uh huh, and you weren't going to tell me why this day might be important to you? I'm hurt you wouldn't tell me your birthday. Especially since I imagine you already know mine", he gave her a hot, golden eyed gaze daring her to say otherwise.  
Despite herself she muttered, "I always thought Summerday was appropriate for you."  
Alistair shook his head, "See? Well, since we're snowed in again and the blizzard still hasn't stopped, I can't even suggest going outside… But is there anything you want to do?"  
She ran the fingers of her right hand through her hair leaving those adorable little tufts sticking up every which way. "I really haven't given it much thought. I've always preferred fussing over my friends and family than be fussed over…"  
Instead of saying anything right away, he walked over to her, pulling the gauntlets off his hands so he could cup her face with one while smoothing out the silken hair with the other. He lightly rubbed his lips against hers, then gently nibbled her lower lip before kissing her long and slow and deep. Her arms wrapped around his neck, though one trailed up and fisted into his hair.  
When they finally came up for air, Lana's eyes were huge and blurred though she hadn't let up on her grip on his hair. Still panting slightly she smiled into his eyes, "I think I know what I'd like to do."  
"What would that be?" He asked teasingly.  
"You right –", her stomach growled audibly, causing her to sigh in exasperation as he quietly chuckled, "after we eat."  
He kissed her again, sliding his hand down from her hair, lightly caressing her cheek, trailing the rough fingertips down the smooth skin of her throat, along her collar bone, then down her breast to cup it just enough for her to feel his grip through her leather armor. Alistair grinned at the fire in her eyes as he huskily said, "Leave room for dessert."  
Carefully he disentangled himself from her grip, though it wasn't very difficult since it'd loosened during their second kiss. Laughing, Alistair finished putting away his sparring gear, watching Lana shake her head, visibly trying to get her mind working again. As she started to get moving, he grinned before heading out, "I'll see you at the dining hall, love."  
Lana tried waiting patiently for Alistair in their room after they ate their second breakfast, the first being more of a snack for the Wardens to break the worst of their hunger before sparring. But she found herself pacing restlessly before the fireplace. Even though the fire in it was already blazing furiously, she'd give it a half-hearted poke anyway as something to do. Then she finally heard him clomping up the stairs and his muffled yell, "Hey Lana? Get the door please?"  
Even more curious, she did as he asked and blinked at the sight of him standing there holding a tray with two covered bowls, a tall wine bottle accompanied by two crystal flutes. He grinned at her expression and gently nudged his way through the door. Baffled, she shut and locked the door before drifting over to where he was setting one bowl before the fire. Quietly, she drifted over as he set the other bowl nearby, before carefully opening up the bottle, hearing the cork pop followed by a fizz caused her raise her eyebrows in surprise.  
"Champagne, Alistair? If I'd known that, I would've worn something nicer. And isn't it a little early?"  
Smiling, he poured them each a glass, walked over to her to hand her one, then caressed her face with the same hand, "Have I ever told you how much I like seeing you wear one of my shirts like that? And it's not too early, it's not like we've got anything pressing to do."  
Marlana looked down, she'd forgotten she'd grabbed one of his shirts when she changed after their sparring session, the sleeves had been heavily rolled back and the tails hung down to her knees over the leather leggings she wore with her armor so her legs weren't exposed. She also realized why he smiled the way he did when he looked down at her the way he did, even though she had the top laced tight, the fact he had more…chest meant that there was more exposed than the young woman had realized. He laughed as she flushed, "Don't worry, love, the only way anyone can really see anything more than what your armor shows is if they look straight down." He started to guide her over to the fire, "And I like to think I'm the only one who gets to look at you like that."  
"Well, it's true. Anyone else I'd gut. Or feed to the darkspawn."  
Alistair laughed, "As I said before, this is why I love you."  
Her eyes sparkled with humor, "You love me because I'm a psychotic killer?"  
"Well, not only because of that, but you're my psychotic killer." They settled down before the fire, with her leaning against his chest, his arms around her and legs to either side. Both sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, before she shook her head slightly, "Champagne. Wow. Do I even want to know how you managed that?"  
His breath tickled her ear as he leaned in to murmur, "Oh, I have my ways", before lightly kissing her ear. Setting his glass to the side, but keeping his other arm still wrapped around her, the warrior reached out to snag both bowls.  
"Hope you left room for dessert as I asked", he said he uncovered the two bowls and smirked as he watched her eyes widen when she turned to look at what he brought.  
"Chocolate…and strawberries? Alistair, how in the Maker's name did you get strawberries in the middle of winter? And don't give me that line about your ways."  
His laughter was richer than the chocolate, "Well, the Drydens found an old conservatory. They fixed and cleaned it up. There were still some existing plants there, turns out some of them were strawberry plants. No one is really sure how they came to be growing there, but there they were. And we're a couple of the lucky souls who get to benefit from it." As he was speaking, he picked up one of the berries, swirled it in the chocolate and then held it up to her lips.  
Smiling she took a neat bite, or as neat as she could, before she could wipe away the juice and chocolate, he leaned down to delicately kiss her. Afraid that she would drop the glass she still head as her hands started to tremble slightly from the desire that Alistair was stirring in her, Lana set it to the side. "My turn", she said breathlessly.  
His eyes were full of golden fire as she repeated his steps with dipping a strawberry into the chocolate before bringing it up to his mouth. After taking it, he dropped a very sticky kiss into the palm her hand, causing her to giggle. The giggle changed into a gasp as he gently grabbed her wrist to lap up the juice and chocolate from her hand. He started to kiss his way up her wrist and arm, but the sleeve wouldn't roll up any higher. With a growl he yanked the shirt up and over her head.  
She stopped him from going any further with a grin, "No fair, if I lose my shirt, you lose yours"; not letting him get a word in edgewise, her nimble fingers undid the laces and pulled the offending garment off. Or tried to, but the angle was wrong since even sitting she was that much shorter. Alistair's laugh was muffled as he managed to wriggle loose from where the shirt had gotten stuck and tossed it behind him, "Hmm, now where was I again? No matter."  
Carefully he pushed the two bowls to the side before the two of them stretched out on the thick rug before the fire with Alistair carefully balancing his weight above her slight form. Not that they needed it to keep warm as they kissed, tasting the sweetness of the fruit and chocolate underscored by the champagne. Lifting his head, he grinned down at Lana, without bothering to grab a berry, dipped his finger into the chocolate then started to trace her lips. Daintily, the tip of her tongue flicked out to lick the chocolate off then lightly nipped the tip of his finger, her eyes shining brightly from more than the firelight. They kissed again, his hands plunging into her hair to free it from the ribbons binding it as she ran her hands along his neck and back, tracing the outlines of his muscles in the way she knew that would drive him mad.  
But not today, instead he seemed determined to take things at a slower pace than they normally went at as Alistair trailed his hands along her face, down her throat, to shoulders, then along the upper swells of her breasts, along their sides to her back to undo the breast band. Once she was freed, he retraced his previous path along the sensitive flesh causing her to gasp again and arch her back wanting more of his touch. His voice hoarse, "Mind if I try something different?"  
Wondering why he was talking instead of using his mouth for something more interesting, Lana blinked up at him, then shook her head. His mouth curled up into a wicked smile, "Good."  
He scooped out some more of the chocolate and before she realized what exactly he was up to, smeared some on one nipple. That shocked her enough to start to ask what he was up to when his head went down to suckle the chocolate off, "Oh Maker, Alistair! Don't stop!"  
Laughing, he repeated the same actions on the other, enjoying the fact he could get the normally quiet woman yelling out her pleasure. Lifting his head up he smiled into those glazed eyes as his hands slid down her sides to start removing her leggings. Her gaze sharpened as a lascivious smile lit up her expression. With his attention on trying to wrestle her pants off, she wiggled to keep his attention on her hips as she stretched out for the bowl, mentally cursing his longer reach. Finally she got the edge of the bowl and dragged it closer which got her hand messy, but suited her purpose.  
The giggle alerted him, but not in time to stop a chocolate covered hand from running along his chest just as he was about to pull her leggings down. As she licked, kissed and lightly nibbled her way along the sweet covered flesh that had a faint hint of sweat underneath, she decided that he really did have some brilliant ideas sometimes. She glanced up for a moment and laughed huskily at his glazed over expression. Taking advantage of the situation, she got him to flop down on his back with her on top so it was easier for her to continue kissing down his chest, then his taut abdomen, while her clever fingers unlaced his pants and opened them, then darted in to start leisurely stroking him. With his eyes closed as he enjoyed her attentions he didn't see the evil glint in her eyes as she used one foot to hook around the base of the container of chocolate, or realize that one hand moved away as her mouth replaced it.  
He did notice when she traced the length of him with two chocolate covered fingers. "Wha-", was all he managed to get out before mouth and tongue went back to work. He was capable of enough thought to be concerned about hurting her, so that he grabbed fistfuls of rug as he bucked up under her ministrations on him and cried her name. He lay there panting as she propped herself next to him, wiping her mouth, the expression on her face was very much "the cat that ate the pigeon".  
Once Alistair finally caught his breath and his mind could start working again, he stared at her in surprise, "Dear Maker, where did you learn to do that?"  
She blushed and looked away, "Um, well…Leli gave me this book…"  
He groaned, "Well, at least it was Leli, not Zev." He propped himself up and stared at her in horror. "It was just her, right?"  
Lana coughed a little and her flush deepened, "I haven't had the nerve to read the one he gave me."  
Whimpering a little at the thought, he flopped back down with one arm melodramatically flung over his face. Laughing at his antics, she refreshed their glasses, but had to lightly poke him to get him to get out of his dramatic pose to take his glass. Before taking a drink, he lightly clinked his glass against hers, and looking into her eyes with the utmost sincerity, "To us. Always."  
Smiling, she drank to his toast. He waited for her to set her glass to the side before getting to his feet and scooping her up. They both laughed as his pants fell down to his ankles in the process of standing, somehow he managed to step out of them without tripping or dropping her. Lana did manage to distract him slightly by looping her arms around his neck and kissing him. Or maybe it was her bare chest against his. Either way, he got them to their bed without knocking anything over or injuring either of them.  
Laying her down, he kissed her again, deeply, as if his very life depended on it, a kiss she returned as hungrily, fingers laced into his hair. He gently massaged her breasts, before running his calloused thumbs over the tips, eliciting mewls of pleasure deep in her throat. Then he softly kissed his way down her neck to her chest as his hands slowly slid along her sides and stomach. Lovingly he nuzzled her breasts as he finally succeeded in removing her leggings, then slowly ran his hands up along her legs. Almost mindless from unreleased tension all she could do was to keep her hands in his hair and utter wordless croons of encouragement.  
He looked up from ravishing her into her eyes again to watch her expression with a smile as he slipped his hand between her legs, while the other propped him up. She whimpered in need when he stopped and whimpered again, only this time in pleasure as something else replaced the hand. He spoke hoarsely as she closed her eyes while he slowly entered her, "Look at me."  
With obvious effort her eyes reopened to meet his, she saw him, yet didn't, focused more on what her body was telling her. And that what he was doing, was very, very good. Lana couldn't help giggling, drunk from the sensations she told herself, not the bubbly wine, wine didn't make her giddy like this, "I see it's not just the sword you kill things with that you're good with." She tried thinking about how that sounded out loud when he stopped moving to stare down at her, "Hm, guess one of those things that sounded better in my head."  
Shaking his head as a smile lit his face while she wrapped arms and legs around him, he resumed his leisurely pace, her hips moving in time with his. Unable to stay so restrained for so long, the rhythm soon picked up until they both cried out together. Sated for the moment, they lay with their legs entwined and his head between her breasts, one of his arms wrapped around her, the other holding her hand. Lana's free hand absently stroked his hair.  
Before they drifted off, he murmured softly, "Happy Birthday, my love."


	21. Meeting The Dalish

That the guard to the Dalish camp greeted them rather than filling them with arrows was a good sign, or so Marlana kept telling herself as her party was escorted to the Keeper of the clan. She hoped that this Keeper meant it was their leader, or at least someone who could direct them to the leader, no one knew much of the Dalish, not even Zev who had spent some time with a clan. He told her what he could remember, but it was scanty enough. She was aware of just how well her little menagerie was going to go over with the reclusive wanderers. When she saw the tense expressions on the faces of the Dalish, she wondered what mess they were going to have to clean up. There was the expected hostility at the sight of humans, but there was also something else that caused her to wonder what they stepped in this time.  
Since she didn't sense any immediate presence of darkspawn corruption, Marlana decided it was something that wasn't Blight related. Though in the distance she could feel the presence of the monsters, but they were far enough away that it was just a nebulous feeling. When she commented on it to Alistair, he gave her an odd look before he told her he couldn't feel them. The guide-guard had already led them to an older, bald elf whose facial tattoos had faded with time. She introduced Marlana as a Grey Warden before returning to her post. She seemed eager to be away, not that the Warden blamed her, the female Warden wasn't particularly looking forward to this meeting.  
He spoke abruptly, clearly impatient to get the "pleasantries" over with, "Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the Keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?"  
"Marlana, it's a pleasure to meet you", she said, striving to be as polite as possible as she gave the Keeper a slight bow. Not far off she could see what seemed to be an infirmary, a very full infirmary. So she was right about the elves being tense over more than a few humans and the other non-desirables. Fantastic.  
Zathrian seemed surprised at her courtesy, his next words only confirmed it, "Manners? From a shemlen? How interesting. Since you're a Grey Warden, I presume you are here about the Blight."  
She listened in silence as the Keeper explained that his clan was not in any position to be able to honor the treaty. She mentally sighed, really, with the way her life had been this past year, why should be surprised that it wouldn't be easy to get the elves' assistance? Alistair simply voiced her internal opinion when he made a sarcastic quip, "Yes, it seems like you have had your own troubles. What are the odds?"  
Still silent, Marlana and Alistair walked along with the elf to the infirmary, leaving the others behind to wait. She couldn't help but feel disbelief as he spoke of werewolves ambushing the clan as they entered the forest a month ago. Werewolves. Even more fantastic. Studying the warriors that were in the throes of the terrible fever they went through as the curse coursed through them, and being who she was, offered freely, "Is there anything I can do to help?"  
He gave her that look that drove her insane, the one that every person had given her at one time or another since her family was destroyed and she became a Warden, if they didn't outright ask instead of staring at her. The look of "what kind of freak are you?" She may have become a monster in the past year, but it didn't mean she could just stand by and let horrible things happen to people. Of course most humans didn't include elves in their definition of people, but her family always had. Doubly so in her opinion after dealing with Zevran and the few other elves that she'd met that were actually willing to talk to her.  
Impatiently she huffed at the man, "I know, I know, I'm an evil shem, or whatever that term is. And yes, I did mean it when I offered to help. It's part of what I do."  
Zathrian didn't say anything as he slowly walked back to his aravel, considering the offer that had been made, "What do you want in return? Besides honoring the treaty of course."  
He stepped back in shock as those previously calm blue eyes suddenly blazed with icy rage, "I did not make that offer for hope of reward. I offered because you need help and I'm in the position to do so. The Blight drove me here, yes. Had I heard of your problems and knew you would accept outside help, I would have offered it anyway."  
It was interesting to see the big, blond shem step up to her side, heavily place a hand on her shoulder. That fierce gaze didn't turn away from Zathrian, but he saw her relax slightly and one hand went up and settled on the male's. The Keeper sighed before speaking hesitantly, clearly still not believing the small woman, "Within the Forest is a great wolf, one we call Witherfang. From him came the curse and his blood has continued it. If the beast can be slain and his heart brought back to me, perhaps I can end the curse."  
Those sharp blue eyes bore into him, yet the voice sounded disturbingly mild, "Perhaps?"  
He shrugged helplessly, "There is no guarantee, I only suspect it might work, but it's the only hope my people have."  
She nodded her understanding, "We will do what we can."  
"Just keep in mind, Warden, the Brecilian Forest has more threat than werewolves. Its history is full of carnage and murder."  
Marlana sighed, "Let me guess, it's thinned the Veil and all manner of demons tend to slip through."  
Zathrian didn't bother to hide his surprise at her knowledge, "Indeed, forgive me, but I didn't expect you to have such knowledge."  
Her lips thinned slightly in memory of the Circle and Soldier's Peak, as well as other minor places where the Veil had been worn thin or outright torn open, "Wouldn't be the first time. I just hope there aren't any powerful sloth or pride demons."  
He studied this odd…human again. He couldn't call her a shemlen, even after this brief conversation with her. This…Marlana reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place who. Her spirit seemed too great to be confined in such a delicate form when he realized just how small she was. There were quite a few elven women in his clan who were taller and had more mass than she did. Trying to give a courtesy he'd never bothered for with a human, he inclined his head slightly, "Forgive me, Warden, but if you'll excuse me, I need to see to my people. My First Lanaya will be able to assist you, the same with the clan storyteller, Sarel."  
She bowed back, "Of course. I appreciate your time, Keeper."  
Fortunately, Lanaya was easily found and unlike the rest of the clan, seemed eager to talk. Marlana found herself relaxing around the elven woman who was Zathrian's second in command and the two began to talk amiably. Except for Alistair and Shale (who seemed to consider the camp a mobile ant colony), the others drifted away, curious about the Dalish despite themselves and since the Keeper had been polite, the rest of the clan seemed to be taking his lead. Her remaining companions remained silent as a human and a Dalish began the tentative steps to trying to understand each other.  
Walking away, Lana couldn't help but smile. The conversation had been awkward in spots (in particular after being told a poem comparing humans to dragons), but she found she liked the elven First. She hoped the other woman felt the same way and hoped that maybe once the Blight was over she would be able to meet with Lanaya again to see if there was a possibility of peace between their people.  
Those hopes faded when she saw Leliana quickly stomping angrily away from the campfire of the storyteller. The sneer on the man's face drew her ire, but rather than show anger, she simply mimicked what she called "Alistair's Imperial Eyebrow of Doom". The man hastily looked away. Leliana looked angry enough to spit, so the Warden quickly drew her friend to the side, "Okay, Leli, that's the first time I've seen you angry enough to kill someone in public. What's going on? Other than the Dalish being Dalish?"  
Listening to the bard curse in Orlesian, Lana leaned against a nearby tree with her arms folded over her chest to let her friend work it out of her system. Once Leli settled down, Marlana finally got the story out of the other woman. Not surprisingly the older woman had gone to talk with the clan storyteller for information. Unfortunately his idea of "playing nice" was to disguise a lecture of how every human being was a horrible monster in a story. Of the Dales and the Exalted March. Lana grimaced, she personally found it horrifying, as did Leliana. But Leli tried to grit her teeth to get past it hoping she'd get some information from him about the Forest. Instead he just kept getting more and more obnoxious, even some of the hunters that were there had objected to his attitude.  
Tiredly, Marlana rubbed her forehead. She hadn't expected the Dalish to welcome them with open arms, the cold courtesy that she'd gotten from Zathrian had been far better than she expected. And Lanaya's friendliness was something far beyond any of her hopes. She'd just been grateful that they hadn't gotten feathered as soon as they approached the camp. And now Leliana, normally the most diplomatic of the lot, had set off one of the more important people of the clan judging the remarks Zathrian had made about the storyteller. Hoping the rest of the group hadn't pissed anyone else off, she gestured for Alistair and Leli to follow her as she collected the others.  
When she didn't find Oghren right away, she started to get worried, since she found all the others easily enough. There wasn't any yelling, yet, but Maker only knew what kind of trouble the dwarven warrior could get into without supervision. She heard his distinctive chortle first and followed the sound of it, hoping that the trouble wasn't too bad. Rounding the side of an aravel, she stopped dead to marvel. There was her wayward berserker, holding forth in a circle of elven hunters, they all had mugs of something, and judging by their faces, starting to get fairly inebriated. Except Oghren, of course, he was clearly just getting warmed up. And telling stories, with sound effects.  
Stories about their trip in the Deep Roads, and Marlana in particular. Just lovely. Gesturing broadly without spilling a drop from his tankard the dwarf continued on with his story, oblivious to the additional members of his audience, one of whom folded her arms across her chest and glowered at the back of his head. He sounded absurdly cheerful, "Shoulda seen the lass, she just climbed up that quivering pile of diseased flesh like it was some sorta mountain while she was screaming out some of the most ferocious warcries I ever heard from someone as delicate looking. Then she clear took off its head, one of the finest sights I ever saw in a battle."  
She couldn't believe how he was describing that horrific fight with the broodmother. Marlana hadn't been yelling warcries, she'd been screaming in absolute terror. Alistair had the basic decency to lower the visor of his helm to hide his expression, the rest of the party didn't, they were clearly snickering at her expense. Even Oogie. One of the elves pointed a wavering finger at her, "Hey? Ish tha her?"  
Oghren turned around and beamed, "Marlana! Great timing, pull up a bench, have a drink. I've been telling my new friends about our travels."  
"Er, Oghren, we really should get going, there's things we need to be dealing with."  
"Ah, there's plenty of time to deal with some mangy fleabags. These folk want to talk to a real Grey Warden."  
Despite the helm, she could hear Alistair laughing at the situation, the beast. Deciding to get even, "You know, Alistair has been a Warden for longer than me."  
There was a muffled "Hey" while Oghren snorted, "Yeah, yeah, I know the little pike-twirler is. But he's not the one who kills broodmothers by climbing them and beheading 'em, or headbutting an ogre in the stones before gutting them."  
She could feel the slow blush growing on her face, she didn't think anyone had seen that particular tactic. But it was literally right on top of her and her blades were stuck in a dead Hurlock at the moment. "Reeaally now," Alistair drawled sounding amused, "I wondered about the high pitched noise it made. Now, that particular fight makes sense."  
Not wanting to get embarrassed by any more stories, she leaned down and grabbed one of the braids Oghren kept his beard in and tugged. Hard. "Up and at 'em tough guy. We've got werewolves and Maker knows what else to deal with."  
"Sodding women, you're all alike. Never any time for fun", the dwarf grumbled. Ignoring the grumbles from her companions, Marlana very determinedly made the others head out. There were a few protests amongst the hunters, but most of them had passed out from drinking with Oghren. Shaking her head, hoping that no one else had caused any incidents before she retrieved them, Marlana led the way out of the camp and into the Forest.


	22. Of wolves and Trees

Hanging from the muzzle of a confused and angry werewolf wasn't one of Marlana's better ideas. But she was so furious when he shoved his face into hers in order to try to intimidate her, she didn't think and simply grabbed a hold while snarling back. The other weres that were with Swiftrunner, or so the humanoid wolf had said his name was, were too stunned to react. The same for her friends.  
"Listen you idiot, I didn't know you and yours were intelligent. I was going by the information I was given which was that you were mindless, savage beasts. Since you seem capable of reasoning, I don't want to keep slaughtering your kind!"  
Due to the grip on his snout, Swiftrunner's response was muffled. But she was pretty sure he was grumbling about the elves.  
"If I let go, will you at least try to talk to me? We can try to work something out, if the elves knew you were intelligent and aware..."  
The werewolf snapped his head up and back while pushing at her with his claws which finally succeeded in prying her off. Rubbing his nose, Swiftrunner glared down at the woman sprawled down at his feet, "If you wish to 'work something out', run to the Dalish and tell them that you failed."  
She shook her head, long, pale hair shivering with the movement, "I cannot lie like that, but I do not want to fight you and yours either."  
Regret was evident in the wolf's voice much to her surprised, "I do not wish to fight you, either, human. But we cannot afford to trust you."  
Living up to his name, the werewolf and his companions ran into the wood. Not quite ready to get up, Lana stared up at her gathered companions who were looking down at her with concern. "Okay, so that wasn't one of my brighter ideas."  
Alistair looked in the direction the wolves had fled, "Well, it was certainly an exciting piece of diplomacy on your part. Weren't you worried he was going to bite you?"  
Finally accepting a hand up from Oghren, Marlana got to her feet and resisted the urge to rub her sore rear end. "No, I had a good enough grip to keep him from doing that."  
"Har! Marlana, that was great! You really showed that fleabag who was boss!" Oghren, not surprisingly, thought it was vastly amusing. The two Wardens simply exchanged rolled eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sten and Morrigan doing the same.  
Dusting herself off with a sigh, Lana made sure she didn't lose anything in the shove and fall. Then looked around the area for any non-darkspawn threat, at the moment she didn't feel anything close enough to be a threat. And once again, she thought that the Brecilian Forest didn't immediately strike a person as a wood that was haunted by all manner of spirits and full of slavering werewolves. It was possibly one of the most beautiful places she'd ever been. While the winter had been long and harsh, leading to a soggy and muddy spring elsewhere, it seemed to have been more balm than bane to the woods. Sunlight flowed like honey through the thick, leafy canopy overhead. Both trees and underbrush were in full leaf, flowers were starting to blossom and the place was full of birdsong, insects and other wildlife.  
While it had been amusing to see Oghren's horrified reaction to seeing a "small furry nug" the first time he saw a rabbit, the rest of the denizens weren't so benign. Besides the werewolves, there were also blighted creatures, undead and darkspawn. The most unnerving for the group of adventurers was the trees that started moving of their own free will. "Sylvans" they were identified as by Morrigan. Sometimes a spirit from the Fade, most likely a demon, would take possession of a tree. Since it was a plant, not flesh, such possessions often drove the spirit mad and hostile for it was against the plant's nature to move about. From the little that she'd seen, mad and hostile certainly described the Sylvans. Fortunately after the first few ambushes they were able to recognize the difference between a normal tree and the spirit infested ones.  
During their explorations, they found the mist shrouded heart of the forest where they wandered in circles before ending up where they began. Lana stood before the wall of fog with arms crossed, foot tapping in annoyance as she glowered at it. Wynne and Morrigan studied the wall thoughtfully to see if they could bypass it with their respective spells. Oghren started drinking while Zev, Leli and Sten stood watch. Oogie flopped down at her feet to take a nap and Alistair leaned against a nearby tree torn between watching her and watching out for trouble. This meant watching Lana more, if only because she had a proven talent of finding trouble, or for trouble finding her.  
Finally both mages gave up on finding a way through with their magic as a lost cause. By then Lana had come to the conclusion herself and asked for suggestions on which way to continue looking. Lacking a general consensus, she decided to flip a coin to settle on a direction, figuring they'd eventually end up exploring a majority of the woods in question. After a brief lunch, or as brief as it could be with the way the two Wardens could eat, they went in the direction picked.  
The white furred werewolf they met next, was something completely unexpected. Not quite ignoring the mutters about traps, seeing the creature in such pain stirred Marlana's compassion. Carefully she approached it, its yellow eyes holding equal measures of agony and intelligence, it regarded the woman warily.  
Panting, it tried to speak, "P-please…listen…I am not…the mindless beast I appear to be..."  
Dark blue eyes studied the were, "I know. If you're one of the Dalish, your Keeper sent us out to find a way to stop this." Taking a chance, she reached out and placed her hand on the furry shoulder. It shuddered under her hand, then settled, the amber eyes staring at her in astonishment from where it crouched.  
"I-I cannot betray her…you don't understand what's going on."  
Soothingly, the warden spoke, "I'm not asking you to betray anyone. I want to resolve this without anymore bloodshed on either side."  
The werewolf started shaking again, and slowly Marlana pried out her story. Danyla, for that was the former elf's name, spoke of how she transformed due to the ambush on the clan. Then the cursed elf begged for Marlana to tell Danyla's husband, Athras, that she was dead. Shaking her head, "I can't do that. You're still alive."  
Danyla howled, a sound of such anguish, "The curse, it burns… Please, I beg you, do this for me, end it, please. The pain…"  
Lana couldn't look at any of the others, she knew what they would say. "Look, as long as you're alive, there's hope. We're looking for a way to end the curse, please, give us that chance."  
Unexpectedly Sten rumbled, "If anyone can find the cure to this, it is the kadan. She has found what I thought to be the undiscoverable, yet she found my soul and restored it to me. Give her the chance to find the cure to your curse. She is an ashkaari in all but name, though she denies it."  
Sten's faith in her was humbling. During their travels after the misadventure in Haven she'd pried out of him the reason why he had not returned to his people. It only furthered her believe she'd never understand the Qunari, but she could understand how the sword forged for his hand only would mark him in some way to his people. The loss of his sword was losing a piece of himself. And the depth of the panic its loss caused in him which was caused him to kill those farmers so long ago. He did truly mourn their deaths, that his aid against the Blight was indeed atonement. So when she could, she asked about the sword.  
Eventually she did learn the location and who had the blade. Marlana couldn't help a snort of amusement when the terrified scavenger Faryn finally told her that he'd sold it to Dwyn of all people. One of the very people she'd bullied into helping defend Redcliffe. Since they ended up having to go by the village again, it had been a simple matter to just buy the sword back. The effort of tracking the sword down had been worth it to see the unseen burden fall away from her odd friend. That she could do that much right for someone had felt good. And privately, it felt very good to do something that didn't involve butchering people.  
Now he gave voice to the faith that she had earned from him, when she had expected him to urge her to end Danyla's life.  
Danyla shivered some more, then bowed her head, "Very well. I…will give you the time, but cannot tell you more of them. I will not let you use me against her."  
With the speed they'd come to expect from the accursed creatures, she bound off into the wood. Marlana looked after her for a long time, wondering who this other "she" was that Danyla kept talking about. Rousing herself, she led the way into further explorations of the forest, hoping to find a way to Witherfang and the supposed cure.  
They found a new marvel in the woods. A sylvan that didn't attack or hold any malice the others had. The humanoid tree had slowly unfurled itself before them and peered down curiously at Marlana, yet she kept the others from attacking when it showed no hostility. Once again she wondered what it was about her that either drew spirits to her, yet confused them.  
It spoke in a voice as deep as the earth, as airy as the wind that rustled through its leaves, "Hrrrrm… What manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?"  
"Errrr. Can't you see that I'm human?"  
"Ahhhh, yes. I remember thy kind. So brief of life and all but blind to the peril you cause, the lives you take, such chaos is sown within they wake." She winced at the tree's description of her people, yet it seemed to speak fondly, the tone of an older man of his grandchildren. And it continued on, "Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree."  
….And it rhymed. Marlana wondered if Oghren had followed through on his threat of giving her some of his special brew. Behind her she could hear the subject of her thoughts chortle, "Hehehe. It's a poet tree. A poetry. Don't you get it?"  
Rather than get angered at the bad pun, the tree laughed with the dwarf. The Warden really wondered if this was a nightmare instead of the usual ones of darkspawn or dead family. If so, she could really stand a vision of the Archdemon right about now, it would be less disturbing. Surreptitiously she pinched herself, she felt it and didn't wake. So no, it was real. Wasn't that just awesome? A spirit possessed tree that shared Oghren's bad sense of humor.  
She and Alistair exchanged incredulous looks as the rest of the group murmured their wonder, at least he seemed to feel the same way. His whispered question confirmed it, "I haven't gone mad have I? A talking tree?"  
Marlana murmured back, "Then we're sharing the same hallucination."  
Before Alistair could say anything in return, the tree continued, "And unless thou thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"  
Confused, and charmed despite her confusion, Lana shrugged and allowed the rhyming tree to make its request. Her first thought was a bemused it's looking for an acorn? Then she realized it was a spirit, the acorn would be a part of its essence, therefore a part of itself. It wasn't hard for her to agree to get the acorn from the hermit that had stolen it. Before leaving, she asked more questions of the forest itself, curious to see what the Grand Oak had to say. While it did see the forest the way a tree would, the perspective was an interesting one.  
The most interesting thing it did say, and the way the tree said it, made her wonder. "The forest had a spirit of its own, from back when its seeds were sown. Perhaps she died of grief that day, or perhaps she simply went away. Or perhaps the weres are the ones to blame, for the day she left is the day they came."  
Bidding farewell to the Oak for the time being, the small group continued on its way in the forest. While still alert, including letting the others know when darkspawn were starting to approach, Marlana thought over the words of tree and wolf. And thought over the possibilities of the "she" Danyla had spoken of might be related to the spirit. Or what was left of it. Could a spirit be…broken up into parts? Then be put into other creatures to curse them? Since that line of questioning was too disturbing even for her, she dropped it for the moment. Just as well really, since they arrived at the clearing of the hermit that supposedly had the Oak's acorn.  
No sign of the hermit, but there was an odd looking tree stump. She knelt down to examine it, but after buffing his nails against his armor, Zev very smarmily said, "Allow me, I have quick hands, no?"  
Amused despite herself, and trying not to grin as Alistair and Leliana both rolled their eyes, Lana stood to the side and made an elaborate, sweeping bow to her fellow killer, "Fine, fine, show off."  
The elf grinned at her and as he groped around the hole in the stump made an even smarmier comment about his hand in a dark hole. This time it was her turn to roll her eyes. However he did retrieve an acorn out of the alcove of the stump, since it glowed and was much larger than the normal acorn, she was going to take a chance and assume that it was the one that the rhyming tree had requested they retrieve.  
"Thieves! Robbers!" A voice screamed behind them. Turning she saw an old man with ragged hair and clothing gesturing madly. Alistair was the first to react with a smite on the man before charging the apparent mage and smashing into the older man with his shield. Taken aback at the abrupt violence out of him, Marlana paused, torn between helping him and trying to call Alistair off. That pause was almost her undoing when a rage demon reared up behind her. The fiery aura alerted her before it could rip her apart, for once she was glad she had her unnatural speed as she dodged out of its way. In one smooth motion the swordswoman unsheathed her blades and sent them singing against her demonic enemy.  
As the otherworldly entity went down from her swords, she looked around to see who else needed assistance. It was just in time for her to get temporarily blinded by an exceptional powerful smite from Alistair. When her vision returned, she was sitting on the stump that caused the brief fight with Wynne examining her with a moderate amount of concern, but not the degree that happened when she was badly wounded. "Everyone else is all right?"  
The healer smiled, "Of course, we were out of reach and looking away. You didn't hear him?"  
Pale hair fell out of the normally tight braid as she shook her head. Out of habit she began rebraiding her hair, "Not when I had a rage demon breathing down my neck."  
Wynne patted her shoulder before heading off. Still feeling slightly dazed, she got to her feet, stowed the acorn in a pouch and checked on the others. Who were all perfectly fine. She sighed a little to herself, she preferred it this way to be honest. Marlana would much rather take the injuries than see the others suffer, though she didn't like seeing the worry in Alistair's eyes. But she'd rather the worry to be there than to feel like she failed him like she did in the Deep Roads. Shaking off her melancholy, she again chivvied her herd of cats into moving.  
Fortunately the return trip to the Grand Oak was quiet, and no distant pressure of darkspawn, so the walk back was a pleasure. While they all stayed alert to danger, she was able to indulge a little in enjoying a fine spring day with her beloved. He'd taken off his helm for the time, leaving it quick to hand if it was needed, so they could talk quietly. Behind them she could hear the muffled conversations amongst the others.  
"Can you believe that we're almost done with this?" Alistair suddenly asked.  
"I don't think we're anywhere near almost done with the werewolves."  
He shook his head, "No, the treaties." His expression turned pensive, "Then we have the landsmeet to deal with…."  
She finally understood where he was going, "Alistair, I mean it. While you do have the best claim, we might be able to convince Eamon", She grimaced at the thought, "or maybe…" She trailed off as a new thought occurred to her.  
"Maybe what? I know that look, you're up to something."  
"Eamon wasn't the only uncle related to Cailan…"  
He stared at her, "Maker's Breath! Teagan? Seriously?"  
"Why not? He's easily as popular as Eamon, if not more so after Redcliffe. And truthfully, I trust him far more than his brother. I know how you feel about Eamon, love, but I can't share the same view. Especially after how he treated you and allowed Isolde to treat you. They kept you in a damn stall. The lowest of my family's servants at least had beds of their own."  
Alistair winced, he was slowly coming to terms why Eamon was a sore subject with her, particularly his childhood. He still wasn't upset over it, though he admitted it did vaguely hurt sometimes. He was an unwanted bastard after all.  
Knowing blue eyes glared up at him as if she were reading his mind. Alistair had to remind himself that while he may still be a royal by-blow, he wasn't unwanted anymore as she spoke, "Some of my father's best knights were bastards. The fatherless kind. He didn't care, so I don't see why I should either."  
"Ah, but would he have approved of them courting his daughter?"  
"If I were interested in one, yes. He wanted me to have a love match like what he and mother had, even though he tried to tell me that I may have to marry for duty. Mother would've had a fit initially, but if it meant more grandchildren, she would've accepted it eventually. But now you're changing the subject. My love, I'm not going to force you into this, I know what kind of nightmare you're in for. So I wanted to give you alternatives."  
Resigned to discussing the uncomfortable subject, he sighed, "But Teagan? Really? Why not Anora?"  
"If we get our way, do you think she's going to want to work with us? Anyway, just think about it."  
"Point. Taken. I'll think about it", he grumbled.  
Her hand laced with his and she smiled warmly up at him, "I love you."  
He couldn't help smiling back just as they entered the glade of the Elder Tree, "I love you, too."  
The tree unfurled at their approach and peered down at her hopefully, "My acorn is still gone, so I pray to thee… Hast thou any news for me?"  
Marlana dug into her pouch and pulled out the strange acorn that Zev had gotten out of the hermit's stump. "I hope this is it."  
The Oak clapped its hands together in delight and danced in place for a moment before delicately taking the acorn from Marlana. "My joy soars to new heights indeed! I am reunited with my seed!"  
With a courtly bow, the Elder Tree handed her a branch, one whose leaves held a faint emerald shimmer even in the shadows. She could feel something wild and free in it, like the forest on a windy spring night, but there was no malice in that energy. As the party left to see what could be found in the mystery heart, the Grand Oak called its blessing to her, "May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong."  
She was still smiling when they returned to the heart, and the mists faded before the emerald magic of the branch that she'd been given.


	23. Tales of Elves and Wolves

"So the curse is ended, even though we have lost Zathrian. Since I am Keeper now, let me say it officially, then. I hereby swear to uphold the terms of the ancient contract our people formed with the Grey Wardens. Call and we shall come, with great speed and purpose, and we shall strike at your foes. This I swear." The new Keeper's voice was solemn and clearly holding back her tears, but to Marlana's surprise gave a small, but warm smile, "Our clan will gladly call you friend, Marlana. I hope that perhaps we can start a bridge between my people and the outside world."  
"You honor me more than I could ever hope for." She crossed her arms and bowed to the elven woman. "You have my deepest condolences for your loss, Keeper."  
The Keeper waved away the honorific, "Please, call me Lanaya, if anyone can call me by my name, you are one of the ones who have the right to do so," Lanaya watched the human woman with sorrow filled eyes, "I…felt him pass. Tell me what happened."  
Marlana nodded sadly, she honestly didn't care about Zathrian, but she liked Lanaya and grieved for the other woman's loss. "It would be best for a private place where we can sit. It's not exactly a long tale, but there maybe some things you may not want everyone to hear."  
Lanaya nodded jerkily and gestured for the other woman to follow the Keeper to her aravel. The rest of the Warden's companions had already scattered, some to make their own camp, others to talk with their Dalish acquaintances. Alistair and Oogie remained with the two women, but remained outside of the aravel. Once inside, Lanaya pulled out a bottle of wine even though it was still early in the day. In silence she poured the ruby liquid into a pair of cups with vine motifs.  
The Keeper held up her cup, "May the fallen return to the Creators' side, be restored to their loved ones, and know only joy."  
Lana lightly tapped her cup against Lanaya's, "In remembrance, as a reminder of those we have lost. So we never forget."  
The two women sipped from their cups. Marlana sighed in regret for what she had to say. "I know you told me that Zathrian lost his family a very long time ago. It was that loss that caused the curse to come about."  
It was Lanaya's turn to sigh. "I…had suspected, but could not find out either way."  
After rubbing her forehead Marlana started to tell the tale. How in rage, grief and pain, Zathrian summoned the spirit of the forest and placed it into the wolf that became known as Witherfang. How he set the spirit-possessed wolf upon the humans that committed the atrocities, most died, but some didn't. Those that lived became the first victims of the curse, to pass it on to others. Including their offspring.  
Taking a small sip of wine and a deep breath that she let out slowly, Marlana continued, "But something changed. Whether it was the spirit and she passed it on to the weres. Or they changed and the change affected the spirit. Or maybe both the spirit and the werewolves changed, I don't know. Either way, the werewolves regained their minds."  
Lanaya paled, "Is that what you and Zathrian were arguing about when you came storming back into camp?"  
Grimly Marlana nodded. After her company had passed into the shrouded heart of the forest, they'd been confronted by Swiftrunner and his pack. Despite her requests to speak peacefully, the werewolves had attacked, fearing that she was going to lead a slaughter of their people. Before she could strike Swiftrunner down, a great white wolf, with odd green eyes, and even stranger viney growths upon its limbs, had knocked her flat on her back sending her sliding back a bit. It had stood on her chest staring into her eyes, clearly judging her.  
After a blood chilling howl, the wolf leapt off her and led the weres away. Other than being winded and slightly bruised the wolf hadn't injured her. Witherfang, for it could have been no other, had been careful not to break her skin. She'd been shaken by the encounter, knowing she'd been close to a fate worse than death.  
"Yes, I tried to get him to talk to them then. I know they were still bestial and somewhat savage. But they were trying to overcome what the curse was doing to them. They were desperate, they didn't want to ambush your clan, but couldn't find any other way to try to get Zathrian to talk to them."  
Lanaya's face crumpled, "Oh Creators. His hate ran that deeply."  
Softly, "I know what hate can do to a person."  
"Really? You're clearly born to human nobility by your manners and speech. You maybe a Grey Warden, but what do you know of such loss?"  
Marlana's expression tightened as her normally neutral mask broke at the elf's dismissive words, "As I told Zathrian, my father's best friend betrayed my family. I found the violated body of my brother's wife next to the butchered corpse of her five year old son. My mother remained behind with my slowly dying father to buy me the time to escape. I was hunted like an animal from my family's lands and barely got to Ostagar. Only my brother was betrayed there by the same man who betrayed my Order and my king. Don't you dare presume that the Dalish are the only ones who have suffered!"  
At the cold rage and pain in the human's voice, Lanaya took a deeper gulp of wine than she probably should have, "I-I'm sorry. It is easy to forget that even humans can suffer such loss. And yet you're pursing the Blight…"  
If there'd been room, Marlana would've started pacing, as it was her hands clenched on themselves to give her some means of relieving her tension, "And not those treacherous bastards? The Blight is a greater evil and must be dealt with now before it consumes Ferelden. Once this is over, I will seek out justice against the oathbreakers."  
Curious about Marlana's choice of words, "Justice? Not vengeance?"  
The generous mouth compressed into a line as she spoke tightly, "Yes. I have seen what it does to a person. It consumes them until there is nothing left. I don't want to be like that." She held up one hand before the elven woman could say anything, "And I'm not talking about just Zathrian either."  
Troubled the Keeper gestured for the Warden to continue her story.  
Lana spoke of the meeting with Swiftrunner and the Lady of the Forest. How the Lady and Witherfang were one and the same, and the healing the Lady brought to the weres, allowing them to regain their minds. Their plea for her to speak with Zathrian to try to convince him to talk things out. Her confrontation with the deceased Keeper where she had used her own pain to try to get through to him in the hopes that he would actually listen. Zathrian's grudging agreement to meet with the spirit and the weres.  
Zathrian unleashing his powers on everyone present when Marlana refused to kill Witherfang, since the heart would only cure the hunters, not truly end the curse.  
Marlana left out the fact that Zathrian had been using the curse to prolong his life. It was a lie of omission, but she was giving more than enough bad news to Lanaya, she didn't want to add to the woman's burdens. Nor did she say that it was by her hand that Zathrian was beaten into submission. It was not one of her prouder moments, seeing how broken Zathrian's gaze was, to be defeated by what was a human child in his eyes. As the Warden spoke of the brief, but fierce, fight, Lanaya refreshed their drinks.  
She spoke how Zathrian finally acknowledged that perhaps his need for revenge had gone on for too long. There was awe in her voice as she spoke of Zathrian and the Lady facing one another, near identical looks of peace upon their expressions. How the light that seemed to have no source circled round the two, spilling out into the room before filling it. The werewolves transformed into humans and a few elves. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to bring back anything for you to lay to rest… I don't know if it was from ending the curse, or how old he was."  
Not sure what else to say, Marlana took a long swallow of her wine. Lanaya was silent for a time, looking down into her cup. Finally she let out her breath in a slow exhale, "We will mourn his loss, and those who died from this madness." She hesitated, "And the humans? What of them?"  
"They've left the wood, now that they're free they're eager to see the outside world. They have no desire for further blood"  
Lana suddenly chuckled a bit to herself, "Though I agree with Alistair's sentiment, I hope they remember clothing before they approach anyone. They were rather…exposed."  
Despite herself, the elf's lips twitched into a faint smile at the thought. Then she shook her head, "Forgive me, my friend, but I need to tend to my clan. You and your companions are welcome to stay to rest for a time if you'd like."  
"Thank you for your offer. And I should like to meet with any of your mages. I learned an interesting bit of lore that you might find of interest."  
Quickly she explained about the strange phylactery she found in the ruins. She spoke of the elven spirit that called itself an arcane warrior, how he'd been not just a skilled mage, but skilled in wearing armor and bearing arms. Fascinated, Lanaya promised to make arrangements, glad to have another piece of lost knowledge to be restored to her people.  
As Lana left the aravel, Alistair dropped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. "Everything all right, love?"  
She nodded tiredly as she slipped her right arm around him as the two slowly headed toward their camp. "We have the last of our army."  
He took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly, "Then I guess its time to return to Redcliffe."  
She nodded, "If Teagan is there, I can speak to him about what we discussed a few days ago."  
Alistair didn't say anything until they settled down with a mid-morning snack, "I can't do that to him."  
Lana studied him with eyes dark with concern, "Are you sure? I really don't want to pressure you into this."  
He smiled at her, "I'm sure, after all you're the one who keeps telling me to stand up for myself. I'm bloody terrified of the idea, but at the same time, how can I ask someone else to take up that burden for me?"  
She placed her hand on his, "I meant it when I said that I'd be there to help."  
How gold his eyes could turn when he smiled like that at her. And that was answer enough for Lana.


	24. At The End of the Day

"Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden. It was the city of King Calenhad, the birthplace of Andraste. As stubborn as a mabari, and as good to have on your side."  
Oogie growled at the Arl's words as the massive warhound padded by his human's side while she and Alistair escorted Eamon to his estate in the city. The Arl frowned at the dog, "Was it something I said?"  
Lana coughed slightly to hide her smile and tried to come up with a tactful explanation. Alistair, not feeling particularly happy at the moment, decided to be blunt, "I don't think he likes being compared to the city."  
The mabari woofed his agreement and panted his approval of the human warrior. He liked his human's mate more and more, glad she was more discerning than most of her kind. And if the dog felt like admitting it, more discerning than his. At least when she did pick a mate, she found a good one. He did a full body wiggle of happiness as Alistair slipped him a bit of jerky as a treat before rubbing the dog's ears. Yes, Ali, as Oogie thought of him, was a good one. Unlike the stuffy one that his human didn't really like, and Ali seemed torn over, and wondered why his human didn't kill this one. Or have one of the others do so, usually the ones that she didn't like or upset Ali, which is what the stuffy one was doing, or even more stupidly, did both, tended to die quickly. He figured it was a human thing that the stuffy one was still alive. Once again, he was glad that he wasn't human.  
As Eamon droned on about the importance of Denerim and how if they won Denerim, the rest of the nation would follow, Marlana mentally frowned at the older man's words. They already knew this and wondered why he was going on about it, then realized that he was nervous. Somewhat surprised at that, she mulled over the various reasons in her mind that someone like the Arl would be nervous. They were numerous, the most likely in her mind was that Eamon was wondering if Alistair was going to go along with all of the Arl's ideas, how the nobles were going to react to Eamon's plans, what Loghain was going to do. She also knew the older man was wary of her, what she was capable of doing.  
Not just her actions, but her name as well. While she was a Grey Warden, and Wardens were supposed to give up all claim to name and title, the current situation was far from typical. She was the last of her line and wouldn't give up the hope of justice. Not just for her and her family, but Highever as well. What'd little she'd seen of her ancestral lands… She squashed those memories, hate and rage would rob her of her reason. She also knew if she weren't careful, she'd end up with a fate like Sophia Dryden.  
It was with those gloomy thoughts that she arrived at the Arl's estate in Denerim with Alistair and Eamon, Oogie quietly padding at her side. The rest of their companions had gone on ahead with the Arl's entourage. They'd just entered the main hall of the estate and the nobleman had begun issuing the final orders for where everyone would be roomed. To her pleased surprise, Eamon had delicately phrased that she and Alistair were to be given a room together. There was a similar flash of surprise in Alistair's warm brown eyes, surprise that quickly changed to a hard questioning look at the nobleman.  
There came a sudden commotion started at the main gates before Alistair could ask his question. A servant ran ahead of three armed and armored individuals striding through the hall as if they owned the place. The servant barely gasped out "I'm sorry, my lord, but we couldn't stop them", before the three uninvited guests' identities became known. She knew her eyes had gone cold even as her body went absolutely still, better to be cold and in charge of her faculties than to allow the absolute fury that had awakened to control her.  
All she could see at first was Howe's treacherous face and it took all of her formidable will not to draw Starfang and Duncan's sword, to let her blades sing their terrible songs of destruction. To paint the walls red with the treacherous cur's blood and make him suffer like he made her family suffer. Instead her hands clenched into fists as the blood pounded in her head, hazing her vision with scarlet, her heartbeat sped up, the adrenaline pumping in her veins trying to spur her into action. A distant, very distant, rational part of her mind was glad for the gloves on her hands, otherwise her nails would have sunk into the palms leaving bloody crescents.  
Finally gaining some measure of calm, she turned to see Loghain, once a hero of their people, respected by her father and brother. Traitor to his king and son-in-law, traitor to the people he supposedly cared for by leaving the army to die at Ostagar and damn the country to the incursion of the Blight. To the right of the usurper, she saw Ser Cauthrien, Loghain's ever present shadow and lickspittle. Supposedly an honorable woman, but Marlana had her doubts about that seeing that the woman was still with Mac Tir.  
It was one of the greatest struggles of her life not to challenge the three, and saw out of the corner of her eye Alistair's jaw tense and his eyes tighten in his own struggle. Marlana knew at that moment if the two Wardens touched each other, they would both act on their desire for revenge, since each would be feeding off the rage of the other. Faced with the murderers of so many that had been important to the last two Grey Wardens of Ferelden, at that moment Marlana had to admit to herself that her heart of hearts sought vengeance. There was too much riding on them to…indulge her dark desires. So step, by careful, mental step, she backed away from her inner demons.  
Fortunately, Eamon had been quick witted enough to talk while the Wardens struggled to keep at least neutral expressions in place, "Loghain. This is an unexpected honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally."  
Loghain's expression was thunderous, and he spoke in a clipped tone, "How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?"  
Eamon appeared unruffled as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, "The Blight is why I'm here. With Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."  
The Teryn slammed one gauntleted fist into another, "Ferelden has a strong leader: its queen. And I lead her armies."  
Finally Marlana found her voice, a sharp bark of laughter erupted out of her, "Are you going to lead her armies as well as you did Cailan's at Ostagar?"  
Startled, Loghain turned towards the young woman he had ignored before this, "Ah yes, the young recruit Cailan was so taken with. That I've heard so much about this past year. For what it is worth, you have my sympathies about your Order. A pity you had turned against Ferelden in its time of need."  
A cold smile curved her lips and those icy eyes took on a feral gleam, "Is that what you're telling yourself these days, my lord?" Her tone was mocking on his title, "Funny you say that. Tell me, how long did it take you to goad Cailan into that rash charge so you could kill him and everyone else that stood in your at Ostagar?"  
Cauthrien snarled into the shorter woman's face, "What your tone with your betters, churl."  
The knight's words elicited another sharp laugh, all present, except for Alistair, wondered if the silver-haired woman was insane, "My betters. Oh that's rich. I know you think the sun shines out Loghain's arse, but really. My betters. Well, they're certainly better at betraying those who made the mistake of believing them to be friends. Who expected them to be there with their support."  
As intended, Marlana's words clearly provoked the knight, but the older woman backed down with a gesture from Loghain who was watching the Warden thoughtfully.  
Howe sneered, "It was your family who were the traitors not I. I simply brought the evidence before the king."  
That frozen gaze turned on Howe, causing him to step back without meaning to, "Really now. If you have such evidence, why the sneak attack late at night? Why not bring it to Cailan? Oh, that's probably because you didn't have any. And you figured that Loghain had already done his part in eliminating the rest of those who would have stood in your way."  
Loghain made a slashing gesture with his hand, "Enough! Eamon, you're a reasonable man, why do you persist with this foolishness when the country needs to be united more than ever? You fought with us against the Orlesians, why go against us now?"  
For the briefest moment, Eamon's own pain and anger shown before his mask settled back into place, "I cannot forgive what you did to Cailan, and what you did to my family. The Maker may have such mercy, but I do not."  
The two lords stared at each for a long moment in silence before Loghain sighed, "Very well, I see this was indeed a pointless visit as I had been told it would be."  
Marlana called out as the three turned to leave, "Teyrn Mac Tir."  
Startled, Loghain stopped and turned to look at her, "Yes, Warden?"  
"You once offered me a piece of advice that has served me well, I believe it is only fair that I return the favor."  
At her words his eyebrows went up and he spoke dryly, "Advice? Do tell."  
"Watch your back with Howe. Once he's gotten everything he thinks he can from you, I'm sure you'll suffer the same fate as my family."  
Despite himself, Loghain looked over his shoulder at Howe's too innocent expression before abruptly turning and walking away. Seeing the teyrn's reaction caused a small, feral smile to curve the corners of her lips.  
Shaking himself, Eamon spoke, "Well that was certainly bracing. What did you hope to achieve there, Warden?"  
Alistair spoke before she could, "Oh, I imagine it was to upset them. Not to mention trying to get Loghain to start to doubt Howe."  
Lana nodded, those frozen eyes still staring at the now empty gateway, her hands still fisted and shaking.  
Eamon studied Alistair and Marlana thoughtfully, clearly not sure what to make of both of them. Absently, the warrior removed his gauntlets before running a hand through his hair, letting out his breath in a long sigh, "So. What do you propose we do now?"  
"Why don't the two of you get settled in? It's been a long trip and after the events of the day, I'm sure we can all use some relaxation for the rest of the day. Tomorrow we'll need to get started on getting information about the rest of the nobles."  
The two Wardens stood quietly together as the Arl walked off. Lana placed a hand on Alistair's forearm, "Love, there's a few things I need to do alone in the city, I promise it won't be long, but I can't do them with company."  
He frowned at her, concern in his eyes, "You are aware that if Loghain doesn't have anyone laying in wait for you, Howe most certainly does?"  
She nodded, "It's just a couple of people I need to talk to aren't very understanding about outsiders."  
"Oh. Well. That kind of business." He sighed again, "I'd rather you didn't, but I trust you." He wrapped her up in a bear hug, not caring who saw his action or the fact she hugged back as tightly as she could. "Just…be careful. Please? And how long do you think you'll be?"  
Not letting go of him, not yet, her voice muffled from not lifting her face up from his chest despite the armor, "A couple hours at the most. If it's going to be longer, I'll send word."  
Alistair ran his hand through her hair once before reluctantly stepping back to let her go.  
Lana returned to the estate a little later than expected, but Alistair hadn't been too worried since some packages arrived with a note. He couldn't help but laugh when her first line told him to leave the things alone until she got back and that she would be a little late. That she had a quick errand to do.  
When he heard the first of the amused whispers that the Dark Wolf had struck again, he wondered if she was out of her mind. When there were further details shortly after, he knew she was insane and loved her for it.  
Seeing the amusement in those big blue eyes and the way her mouth kept curling up into a grin, he couldn't help but grin back when she greeted him breathlessly in their room. After assuring himself that Lana was fine, and letting her put down the packages in her arms, Alistair kissed her slowly before demanding, "All right. Let's see it."  
Eyes dancing with mischief, "See what?"  
"You know what I'm talking about", he mocked growled.  
Grinning, she sat him down before the fireplace and handed him a wrapped box out of the ones she had brought back with her. Like he was unwrapping a box of live snakes, Alistair carefully undid the paper then opened the box to stare at the object within. Only Loghain would have this steel monstrosity for a crown, he thought bemusedly.  
He closed the box thoughtfully, "Do I want to know how you did this?"  
She giggled, obviously still pleased with what she pulled off, "Slipped something into their drinks, snuck in, snuck back out."  
Normally he wouldn't agree with an action like this, but it was Loghain and it just tickled his fancy that she was able to do something to strike back at the bastard so quickly. Even if it was petty. "I hope you have a place to hide it."  
She nodded, "I'll be right back"  
To his surprise, she carefully went out of their window, and was back in a few moments covered in dust and cobwebs. Lana returned to his raised eyebrows, as far as he knew she'd never been at the Arl's estate before. Laughing, she told him, "We're right under the window to one of the attics. I guessed correctly that it was as dusty and full of old junk. And now I need a quick wash."  
She glanced at him sideways, "Or it could be a long one, if you want to join me."  
"As tempting as it may be, I'm afraid I have to pass. I'm starving."  
"Oh, I hope you don't mind if I made arrangements for us to eat up here alone?"  
"Since when have I objected to eating alone with the beautiful woman that I adore?" That earned him another warm smile that made her eyes shine. He couldn't resist watching her wash up though, or changing out of her leathers and into clothing. Or rather one piece of clothing, one of his shirts that she'd absconded with. Seeing how it partially exposed one shoulder, yet covered her to her knees always caught his interest. Not to mention the contrast of the snowy linen against tanned skin that looked more sun-kissed golden brown rather than the typical sun-burnt look so many Fereldens had.  
Knowing his eyes were on her, Lana slowly gathered up the remaining packages she brought with her and settled back down by the fire. Bemused he sat down with her and watched as she unwrapped a variety of cheeses, some sausages she knew he liked, a couple bottles of wine whose vintage they both enjoyed, exotic dried fruits that he had only had a handful of times in his life. Accompanied by a variety of breads and sauces to go with the sausage and cheese. Simple fare on the surface, but all excellent quality and food they both enjoyed.  
"Not that I'm complaining, but what's the occasion?"  
Opening one of the bottles, then pouring the wine into a goblet then handing it to him, she gave him a small, wistful smile, "I know that Summerday isn't until another week, but with the way things are going… And I didn't exactly have time to make the kind of special arrangements I wanted to…" She trailed off uncertainly.  
Touched, he leaned over to cradle her face in one hand, "You didn't have to, I honestly wasn't even thinking about that. Not with everything going on."  
She placed one hand over his, "I know, but I love you so much and wanted to do something for you."  
It was Alistair's turn to grin, "In that case, you can help me cut this up so we can eat. I'm wasting away here."  
After they ate and cleaned up from their simple meal, she brought over the last two packages, one that seemed to be around the same size as some of the smaller food parcels, but had been marked to be handled with care. That one he hadn't dared touch, but had wondered what was in there. The other was a much smaller box, one that fit in the palm of her hand and saw that it was wrapped in golden paper. She handed him the wrapped package as she opened the other. He shook his head at the small chocolate cake as he smiled, "You're something else."  
"Says the man who managed not only strawberries and chocolate, but champagne."  
Alistair took a swipe of the frosting and closed his eyes at the decadent taste, "But nothing like this."  
She laughed, "Uh huh. Anyway, aren't you going to open your gift?"  
Carefully, not wanting to tear the paper, he opened it and gazed dumbstruck at the item nestled in the jeweler's box. A pendant made out of silverite with the griffin of the Grey Wardens embossed upon its face in some faintly glowing blue gem. Then he realized it wasn't a gem, but lyrium, he could feel the enchantments worked into it, and with trembling hands lifted it out of its container. He settled the plain silverite chain around his neck and somehow wasn't surprised that the pendant settled perfectly over his heart.  
Alistair made sure the cake wasn't in the way as he slid his hands around his beloved's face to kiss her deeply. When he finally let them come up for air, she murmured against his lips, "Happy early birthday, my love."  
Leaning away from him for a moment, she refilled their goblets and lifted hers, and repeated the same toast he had said to her only a short time before, "To us. Always."  
This time it was his turn to smile as he tapped his goblet against hers, "Always, my love."  
As they drank to their promises to one another, Alistair decided that for all the political nightmares ahead of them, not to mention the Blight, this was truly the happiest birthday he had. Those shining blue eyes made it all worthwhile.


	25. Hunger

"That woman is full of horseshit," Marlana said as she crossed her arms while leaning against a wall of Eamon's study, cold blue eyes staring at the door the elven woman had just passed through. Alistair stifled a snicker as Eamon simply sighed. The Arl had learned that the young woman normally didn't use a lot of crude language, when she did it was to the point. He supposed he should be thankful she didn't pick up any of the interesting terms her dwarven companion used.  
"As if I'm going to believe that even Loghain is going to allow something to happen to his daughter. He maybe power hungry, but he isn't going to allow her to be killed."  
Eamon frowned, "Were she still in the palace or her father's estate here in Denerim, I'd agree. But she's under Howe's control and you know better than any of us what he's capable of doing."  
If the Arl was hoping to get a rise out of Marlana, he failed as she simply shrugged and looked thoughtful while tapping the fingers of her right hand on her leather clad left arm. Unlike the rest of her companions, she still dressed as if on the road or ready for battle in her battered dark blue leathers and her silver hair bound up in a braid. That she didn't wear her swords while in the estate was a courtesy, yet it was generally assumed she had assorted daggers stashed upon her.  
"So you're suggesting we go in there so we possibly won't get framed for a murder that might not even occur?"  
Eamon winced at her phrasing. "Not just that, she could be a powerful ally."  
"You honestly believe she'll turn on her father? Considering how quickly she hid behind daddy, I have my doubts." Lana's voice was dry.  
"Really Eamon, do you think that Anora is going to help me take the throne away from her father?" Alistair sounded incredulous. "Or do you think she's too stupid to notice how we're really working against Loghain? If that's the case, I don't see how she'll be all that useful."  
Marlana's objections he'd expected, but he hadn't expected Alistair to show such a grasp of politics. Hastily he smoothed his expression as a sardonic smirk formed on the young man's face and the way the female Warden's eyes glittered with cool amusement. It seemed the two were constantly turning over what he thought of them, especially Alistair. The year since Ostagar had changed the man greatly, he wasn't sure yet if it was a good thing or not. The Arl cleared his throat, "So what are the two of you going to do now?"  
A deceptively boyish grin lit up Alistair's face, "Lunch."  
Lana gave a slightly sheepish smile as she nodded her agreement. Eamon chuckled slightly, "Enjoy, just try to leave some for the rest of us."  
Grinning, Lana lightly jabbed Alistair in the ribs with an elbow as the two left the study, "Remember that when we get down there, Alistair."  
Eamon didn't hear Alistair's response, only Lana's silvery laughter and he smiled at the sound as the door closed behind them. He leaned back into his chair and stared down at the papers on his desk, troubled. He was worried about his own reactions to Alistair not turning to him for advice immediately. Even more so that he had started seeing Marlana as a threat and it shamed him to admit to himself that he saw her as a threat to his influence over the young man. The Arl had never considered himself the type that hungered for power, but he was starting to see that tendency now.  
That he discovered that he was capable of that type of hunger terrified him.  
Unaware of the soul searching they'd caused in the Arl, the young lovers heading down to the dining room. Agatha, the head cook, shook her head in bemusement as she watched the Wardens load up on enough food for twice their number. Having fed young warriors before, she wasn't terribly surprised at the amount Alistair could pack away, even though it was more than most. It was the amount that Marlana could eat that was astonishing. The cook was used to noblewomen having much more delicate appetites, even the more martial ones. As Agatha headed back to the kitchen she mused that some of the rumors about Wardens might actually be true.  
Both Wardens were quiet as they sated the worst of their voracious appetites. After drinking some of the cider in his mug, Alistair spoke, "So I'm going to venture a guess that you think this is a trap."  
"Of course it's a trap. The question is, am I going to spring it?"  
His eyes narrowed, "I?"  
"Alistair, now that the Landsmeet is approaching you can't be risked."  
His jaw clenched as his expression darkened, "I'm not going to sacrifice you for this. The throne isn't worth it, this damn country isn't worth it."  
"I don't have any plans of sacrificing myself, but I can't risk both of us."  
His scowl deepened.  
She sighed and reached across the table to touch his fist. "Of the two of us, I'm the one best suited to springing a trap and getting out of it. And I'm thinking we can't risk both of the only two Wardens that are in Ferelden."  
Alistair shook his head angrily, "And what if the trap is setup specifically for you? This is Howe, he more than Loghain is out for your blood, particularly after you humiliated him in such a public manner. I know you've heard the rumors as well as I have when we've been at the Gnawed Noble to play politics. Not to mention there being a slight, but very notable, cooling between the two."  
"I know and that's why I'm debating if I'm going to do this at all."  
The steady look he gave said all he needed to. They both knew she'd do it, if only to strike another blow at Howe and Loghain. Directly this time, and not the shadowy work she'd done in their previous visits to Denerim. While the awful, metallic monstrosity of a crown was still undiscovered in the very dusty attic of the estate, the two still would giggle evilly over that small victory. But snatching Anora away from Howe would be an order of magnitude greater than stealing some silver bars or a crown.  
She grimaced before digging back into her food. In between neat bites Lana spoke, "I need more information before we proceed. If possible scout out the estate so we have the lay of the land."  
Returning to his own food, Alistair gave her an arch look, "You mean better than what happened with Franderel's estate?"  
Flushing with embarrassment, Lana focused her attention on her food. That had been one of her less exemplary feats of shadow work. The Bann had thought to setup a trap for the near legendary "Dark Wolf" which both her contact and she had fallen for hook, line and sinker. Slim Couldry, her contact and one of the most rotund thieves she'd met, had gotten what he thought was information about the Bann's treasure vault. Instead it was a dusty basement room that set off an alarm the moment the door was opened. But Lana had proven how sneaky she could be as she snuck out of the estate while the guards searched the grounds for her with no luck.  
While the trap hadn't been successful, the Bann still tried to play up how he almost caught the infamous thief. The spin backfired on him almost as badly as the trap, instead Denerim buzzed with admiration for the brazen rogue. Not even a generous sized chunk of fine aged cheddar had been enough to distract Alistair from his fury when she got back from the failed heist. His yelling had been enough to bring their companions, Eamon and all of the nearby guards to see what the commotion was about. Seeing that it was simply an argument, they were told irritably by numerous people to keep it down. Zev added with a grin, "And my friends, if you would be so kind as to keep down the sounds of your making up, the rest of us would appreciate that as well."  
The elf returned to his room with a wicked laugh at the scarlet faces of the two humans.  
As if her thoughts of the elf summoned him, Zev made a show of taking a seat to Lana's right after getting his own modest lunch. Leliana had entered the room with the elven assassin, got her food before sitting down next to Alistair, but in a much more sedate fashion. Seeing the half eaten meal before the two Wardens, Zev shook his head in bemusement, "How is it that you can eat so much, my dear Warden? I can understand Alistair needing that much to keep his hulk going, but you? And where do you put it all?" He mock leered at her.  
Despite herself, the outrageous Antivan managed to get Lana to laugh, even Alistair chuckled as Leliana snickered at Lana's expense. But the other two rogues soon sobered and Leliana carefully spoke, "So…we could not help but notice the elven woman with an interesting accent leaving the study before the two of you came stomping down here."  
"Oh, all the stomping was Alistair," was Marlana's bland response, though the amused sparkle in her big blue eyes betrayed her as she glanced at him at the corner of her eye. The look he gave her promised she'd pay for that comment later. Then she turned serious and after making sure there wasn't anyone nearby that could overhear, quietly murmured the situation the elven woman had brought to the Arl.  
"Supposedly Anora is a prisoner of Howe's at the estate of the Arl of Denerim."  
She didn't need to say anything further as bard and assassin both nodded their understanding. Of course they were both familiar with politics in their way, hadn't they helped her deal with the mess in Orzammar? Had Bhelen not been so insistent on getting a Paragon's approval, between the three of them they could have found the means to pressure the deshyrs into accepting the last living Aeducan as the king. But in the end it was just as well, for all that what they found in the Deep Roads was the stuff of nightmares, there'd been valuable knowledge gained.  
But now, now Marlana was in a setting she was familiar with. She didn't like playing politics, but she had learned from her parents and brother. Not to mention all the tutors that her parents had inflicted her on. She'd grown up learning about these people, even knew some.  
They'd all recognized her though, and saw the speculation in their eyes when the rumors proved true that there was still a Cousland alive.  
Wulff had been the first to speak aloud who she was, even if he did accuse her of trying to gather assistance to retake Highever. As much as Marlana wanted to, her duty as a Grey Warden came first. He'd been justifiably bitter that West Hills had fallen and in the process lost his sons as well. Yet another piece of grief to add to all the others. She hoped she'd convinced him she meant what she said about ending the Blight being her priority. She didn't want to be dealing with this nonsense, not when the Archdemon was out there.  
It still flew in her dreams, its carrion call an attractive poisoned bait.  
Arl Leonas Bryland had been the one to truly announce who she was when he looked up Bann Alfstanna to see Marlana standing in the tavern with Alistair as she spoke with a minor noble. He'd blanched as if seeing a ghost, then smiled broadly with genuine delight. Heads turned as he exclaimed, "Marlana? Marlana Cousland? Thank the Maker, you are alive!"  
Then she was swept up off her feet into a bear hug by one of her father's oldest friends. One that had remained true. Alistair had been no help, trying to hide his laughter as a coughing fit while his eyes danced with amusement. When Bryland finally set her back on her feet, he kept one arm around her shoulders to bring her over to talk with Bann Alfstanna. Alistair trailed along in the wake of the two nobles, still clearly amused. Once they were seated, drinks were pressed on the two Wardens and Alistair didn't need Marlana's warning look to be cautious about drinking too much, even thought his capacity for holding alcohol had gotten better. It had to if he wanted to survive Oghren and not deal with Lana's cure for hangovers.  
The next hour or so was spent with Lana and Alistair taking turns telling of their "adventures", though they glossed over certain details. Things such as broodmothers and the Anvil, or the fact that Connor had been possessed by a demon. Alistair was particularly grim about the events at the Tower, "If they hadn't been caged like rats, I don't think Uldred's rebellion would have occurred. They were desperate people, I don't agree with their methods at all, but I can see why the mages reacted the way they did. If they'd been treated more as people…"  
Alfstanna looked horrified, "You don't mean to just end the Circle, do you?"  
"Maker's breath! No, I don't want that at all. But it can't hurt to allow them some privacy or to be allowed to keep in touch with their families is it?"  
Bryland looked at Alistair questioningly. It was Lana who answered though, having no qualms about airing the Chantry's dirty secrets, even if Alistair wasn't sure what to say. Her voice was clipped, "They keep the apprentices in barracks, which isn't too bad, but they keep templars in there all the time. When they do get promoted to full mage status, they're given alcoves of their own, but they still have templars stationed those rooms. And that's after they're dragged to the Tower by templars when their powers first manifest. And they're no longer allowed contact with their birth families."  
Her fellow nobles looked at the angry young woman in astonishment. The Couslands had always been unconventional about how they treated those they ruled, including the elves, but neither realized just how the youngest, and last living, scion of that House would react to how mages were treated. But then it was never immediately clear how the mages were treated in the Circle.  
Alfstanna looked thoughtful, "I realize now why my brother would never discuss the mages with me. He always seemed troubled if the matter came up." The Bann sighed a little, "I hope he's well, normally when I'm in Denerim he makes arrangements to see me, or at least leaves a message, but I haven't heard from him since I've arrived."  
Alistair gave her a sympathetic look full of his typical unconscious charm, "He may have been sent on Chantry business, I doubt he'd knowingly ignore you, my lady."  
Lana hid her smile behind her tankard as Alistair's easy grace won over two more people and at the stunned expression in their eyes. It wasn't just that he had his father's stamp on his face and form, but also the legendary Theirin charm that was still uniquely Alistair. A charm that was purely unconscious for the most part, which made it all the harder to resist. She spared a moment's sympathy for the Arl and Bann, Alistair had managed to win her over despite her conscious desire to never be close to anyone again, they didn't stand a chance.  
It was that meeting that started the speculative looks and whispers. Not just about the last living Cousland, but that there was still a Theirin, even if he was born on the wrong side of the sheets. That the last heirs of the most powerful bloodlines were so clearly together in more ways than one… Bryce's friends and allies who had been carefully quiet began to cautiously hope. The Theirin bastard wasn't a known quantity, but Marlana… They knew Bryce's young spitfire, remembered how the deceased Teyrn spoke of his children, including the pride in his eyes about his fierce girl. Yes, Alistair was an unknown, but he had Marlana with him and that was enough for some to consider the possibilities.  
The possibilities of a Cousland behind a Theirin on the throne. While many considered the combination intriguing, it scared others even more so. And quite frankly Marlana wasn't sure which group worried her more.  
One member of the group that clearly favored them, Arl Bryland, had taken Marlana to the side, "This maybe presumptuous, my dear, but I believe your father would've approved of your young man. And not just because of who his father was and that the two of you are aiming to put him on the throne. I don't know your Alistair yet, but I can see the light that shines in his eyes when he looks at you. And the way you smile back at him."  
Marlana flushed, whether out of embarrassment or the fact that someone else who knew her father approved, she wasn't sure. "Thank you, my lord."  
He mock glared at her, "Since when have I been "my lord" to you, Lana? Or should I start calling you Teyrna Marlana or my lady?"  
She paled at the thought and the older man chuckled, "All right, Uncle Leonas, I'll be good."  
Bryland patted her shoulder and beamed at her, "Good girl! Anyway, should things not go well for you at the Landsmeet, if you need a safe haven, let me know. Had I known you still lived, I would have sought you out before this."  
Lana shook her head, "You may not have been able to find me, Uncle. We've been on the road for the most part."  
"Surely not through the worst of the winter?"  
"Oh, no, we had a place to winter, it was just very secluded."  
He looked relieved, "Good, the thought of you being caught in some of those storms… Anyway, I hope you'll come see me again while you're still in Denerim, I have a feeling there's more to your tale than you've said."  
"Thank you, I certainly hope I'll be able to do so."  
"Make sure you bring your charming young man, I'd like to get to know our future king better."  
Marlana gave him a sharp look at his comment, but he just smiled and wished her a pleasant day before going back to where Alfstanna waited for him. She also couldn't help but notice the number of nobles that started to drift over to talk with the two.  
She shook herself from her mental wanderings, she needed to focus on the present.  
Rubbing her forehead before drinking some water to wet her dry throat as the other three at the table waited patiently for her. "We need to scout the estate, see what we can find out about the situation before going in."  
Zevran nodded, "I think it best if it were just Leliana and I to do the scouting. Not that you aren't quite capable, my dear Marlana, but your absence might be conspicuous, no?"  
Seeing Leliana pale at the thought of going into the estate worried Marlana, but the bard shook her head at the questioning look from the younger woman. "Perhaps it might be best if you go in alone, Zev, and I'll have Morrigan get a bird's eye view. Away from Shale of course."  
There were smiles at her quip.  
Once the four were finished with their luncheon, Marlana took Leliana to the side. "What's wrong, Leli?"  
The bard fidgeted for a moment, and couldn't look Lana in the eyes, "I'm afraid I…wasn't entirely honest about where Marjolaine betrayed me."  
Silent, the Warden leaned against the wall and waited patiently, sapphire eyes giving no sign of what they're owner was thinking.  
"It…was here. In Denerim, at the Arl of Denerim's estates that I found those papers… And my betrayal."  
The pain in those words was all Lana needed to hear and wouldn't allow herself to feel anger at not being told everything. "Easy, my friend. I understand better and I won't make you relive that. But I do have one favor to ask if it's not too much."  
"Oh, anything, I'd even go back there if I had to…"  
Braided silver hair swung back and forth a bit as its owner shook her head, "No, I'm going to do that to you. But if there's anything you can remember of the layout…"  
Leliana brightened, "Oh, I do remember it well enough. I don't know if my ways in and out are still usable, but I can sketch out what I can remember."  
After Leliana sketched out what she remembered of the estate, Zev and Morrigan both studied the rough plans. Both seemed eager to be on their way and Lana realized they must have been feeling restless. Then the two were gone and the waiting began.  
The type of waiting she wasn't good at, but had to learn. Though it was hard, incredibly hard, to send friends off to a potentially dangerous situation without being there for them.


	26. Springing The Trap

"I feel like a fool", Lana said as she and Alistair slowly strolled through the market district back to Eamon's estate. He snorted, "Welcome to my world."  
His comment earned him a jab in the ribs. He rubbed his now sore ribs and asked "How are you a fool, though? You've been dancing circles around some of these nobles and some of them have been playing the game longer than I've been alive."  
"I can't believe I didn't think of seeking out Uncle Leonas before this."  
"Hm, let's see, there's the whole thing with Howe being out for your head because you're the last one with a legitimate claim to Highever. And don't make that face at me. I know the whole thing about Grey Wardens giving up claim to family name and title. Yet here we are trying to get me on the throne, so it's only fair to assume that you're going to take back your family's land." He grinned at her expression. "A-n-yway, as I was saying. After having one of your father's closest friends betray your family, I can see why you wouldn't think of going to the other. Just in case."  
"But I always liked Uncle Leonas, he always treated me nicely and with respect. Howe was always a weasel, mother couldn't stand the man. Neither could Fergus, but Father just laughed it off as Howe being the blunt soldier." She slanted a sideways glance at Alistair, "Yet you didn't seem to have any concerns about those bounties being on us when you kept encouraging us to seek out Eamon."  
"I knew Eamon had the power to stand up to Loghain. I remember some of those conversations early on when you were trying to figure out who we could go to for help. You seemed to think then that those of your father's friends and allies might not be able to stand up to Loghain on their own. And weren't sure if you could have gotten them to work together."  
Marlana was surprised he'd actually paid attention to her rambling at that time. Alistair hadn't given much of a hint that he was listening, just giving the occasional grunt. And to be honest, she'd been more talking out loud than anything else. Then they'd pursued the first of the treaties and everything seemed to take on a life of its own. The few times she considered seeking out Bryland, she'd heard tales of what had happened to the other nobles that didn't fall into line with Loghain, and didn't want to bring that down upon him. Even if she took but a small sliver of the rumors as truth, she didn't dare take the risk.  
But now, things had changed. At first she thought it was purely Eamon's doing, but all he'd done was open the door for them. It was the actions of the two Wardens and the names of the families they came from that were drawing people to them. And wasn't that an interesting thing? And seemed to be sticking in Eamon's craw.  
"You know, Lana, you don't have to think so much all the time", her beloved said with a laugh. She leaned against him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but didn't say anything. He continued on a bit more seriously, "And I do like Arl Bryland, even if he was more interested in interrogating me about my intentions towards you than talking politics."  
Marlana groaned, the two of them had been invited over for tea with Bryland and a few "friends", which she had accepted. The timing had coincided with Zev and Morrigan's scouting expedition, so she used it to distract herself from worrying about any trouble the two of them might have gotten into. She'd been neatly separated from Alistair by Banns Alfstanna and Sighard who had more questions for her. She'd seen Bryland in deep conversation with Alistair, but hadn't realized what the Arl had been grilling him about. Nor did she realize just how protective her adopted uncle would be about her.  
"I don't think I want to know", she finally said faintly.  
Alistair chuckled, "Good, because I wasn't going to tell you."  
He shifted his arm from around her shoulders, lightly skimming his hand along her leather clad shoulder and arm before taking up her hand in his. He smiled faintly in the memory of Leliana's horrified reaction that they were both going to see a nobleman in their armor and openly bearing their weapons. But neither of them was inclined to take a risk of someone getting a lucky shot at them when they were out and about. Bryland and his guests had all approved of their sensible precautions.  
Thinking of the conversation he had with Bryland, he thought of the ring he'd gotten in Orzammar and still hadn't given to her. Or the question that came with it. After the Landsmeet, he promised himself, and her though she didn't know it. No matter what happens, king or not, if I survive the Landsmeet, I'll ask. But please, sweet Andraste, please-  
His thoughts were cut off as they arrived to see Shale wave her fists while shrieking in rage at a raven swooping in and out of her reach, the caws sounding suspiciously like laughter. Seeing the two Wardens, it flew off and over the roof of the estate. It was all Lana could do to keep a straight face at Morrigan harassing the golem. Since it couldn't have been anyone else and all the local feathered fiends had learned to stay away from the Estate when the golem was out and about.  
Laughing the two entered the estate for a matter that was serious, deadly so.  
-oOo-  
"What do you mean, you're not taking me?" Alistair's question came out as a low growl, his brown eyes dark with something that couldn't be called anger or fear. The laughter from earlier was long gone. Lana mentally sighed and rubbed her forehead, she could handle it when he yelled. But when he was as intense as he was that moment, trying to talk him out of it was nearly impossible.  
"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't go and why."  
Alistair began pacing slightly unable to contain his anger at the thought of not being there with her. Ever since they'd met at Ostagar, which seemed a lifetime ago, not just over a year, he'd been there at her side, sword and shield at the ready to protect her. He stopped and glared at her, the others shifted uneasily. The two had the occasional disagreement before the rest of their companions, but never a full blown argument, those were kept for private. "You agreed, but I didn't."  
"Maker's Breath, Alistair! I've lost enough people I love to Howe, I'm not losing you also!" Fear made her eyes seem larger and darker than usual as it bleached her skin of all color. When he cupped one hand against her cheek, he could feel her skin had chilled and was shivering despite the warmth of the room. He tried to sound soothing, "Lana, my lady, my love. You won't lose me to that trap, I swear it."  
Something shifted in her eyes, "I know. You know I love you, right?"  
He frowned at her, "What kind of question is that? Of course –"  
There was a faint pinprick in his other hand, and his mind suddenly felt sluggish. Not just his mind, but his entire body. He shook his head and staggered back, felt something hit behind his knees causing him to fall. But not far, he flopped down bonelessly into the chair Lana had managed to maneuver him near. Assuring herself that he was alright and she hadn't given him too much of the drug, she turned to the others. None of them seemed surprised in the slightest, but she was surprised that Wynne nodded her approval while Morrigan scowled.  
Despite the unshed tears making her eyes bright, Marlana's face bore a businesslike expression. Her attitude held the air of authority she'd come to display since their visit to Redcliffe when they restored the Arl. It was clear she expected her commands to be listened to as she spoke crisply, "Wynne, Oghren and Zevran, you're with me, the rest are staying here. Be alert, Maker only knows what kind of hornets nest we're going to stir up." She handed a vial to Leliana, "When Alistair wakes up, he's going to have one hell of a headache, give him that, it'll take care of it."  
As the bard took the vial, she put her arms around Marlana, "Be careful my friend. We all know that Howe wants to get a hold of you, and from what Zev and Morrigan found out…"  
Lana hugged back, "I know it's a trap, and I'll be as careful as possible. Tell Alistair when he wakes up, I promise to be vigilant and if I can help it, there won't be any sacrifices."  
Leliana studied the young Warden before releasing her, "Maker bless and keep you, Marlana."  
To the surprise of those around them since the young woman wasn't particularly religious, she quoted from the Canticle of Trials, "Maker, my enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against me. But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me."  
Before she could finish her preparations, Morrigan dragged her out into the hall for a more private conversation. The apostate's topaz eyes glittered with anger, "What kind of games are you playing? Alistair may be an idiot, but I haven't seen any better upon the field of battle. Unlike anyone else, the…love the two of you share actually makes you stronger. And now you're quoting that asinine Chant. What aren't you telling us?"  
There was a strangely fey expression in those sapphire eyes, "I don't know anything concrete, Morrigan. Only what you and Zevran had seen and heard while scouting the estate."  
Neither the mage nor the assassin had been able to get concrete proof that Anora was working with Howe, but it was clear she wasn't being held against her will. Nor was there any sign that the queen's life was in any danger.  
Morrigan glared at the silver haired woman, "That you're doing this to get to Howe is even more idiotic than something Alistair would come up with. Do as you will, you always do."  
Lana stared after her friend as the woman stomped down the hall to the room the mage had been assigned. Shaking her head, she returned to her room to get the last of her equipment. She was touched when she saw that Leliana was sitting near Alistair, playing her lute softly, and that someone had rearranged him so that he was stretched out comfortably with his feet propped up on a footstool. Unable to resist, she walked up to the unconscious man, gently skimmed her fingertips along his cheek before lightly brushing her lips against his. She murmured, "Please try not to hate me too much for this, my love."  
She turned to Oogie who was watching her worriedly. She wrapped her arms around the hound's neck, who snuffled her ear and slobbered on her, "Watch over him for me please, brave one?"  
Oogie whined at not going with his human, but understood why she was leaving him. And it wasn't just to protect her mate.  
Annoyed with herself, she irritably brushed the tears from her eyes as she gestured for the other three to follow her. She'd chosen them for a couple of reasons, for one she knew they would obey any orders she gave them and not argue until later. The other, more practical reason, the disguises that Erlina, Anora's elven handmaiden, had obtained would fit them best. Adjusting the disguises to Morrigan and Sten would have been difficult, but doable and Shale not at all.  
Knowing they were going into enemy territory, everyone was on edge, so the mob of angry workmen outside the front door of the estate came as an initially unpleasant surprise. Studying the area before going in, Marlana nodded towards the angry group and asked Erlina, "So…what's with them?"  
The elven woman sighed in impatience, "The new arl, he makes many repairs to his estate, no? But he is not so prompt with his payments. I don't think he will be able to use his front door for some time."  
Marlana's eyes gleamed with malice and she leaned over to murmur something to Oghren. The dwarven warrior grinned evilly before belching out, "I love your evil ways, woman. Pity you aren't a dwarf."  
She sighed, "Don't go there, Oghren. Just do what I asked please."  
He ambled over to the large group and bellowed, "Hey lads, was that the miser himself around the corner?"  
There were some confusion, and while a part of the mob stayed at the doors, enough went around the corner to provide a screen for Marlana's small party to sneak to the back without alerting the guards. Once in the back, they found a good place to hide to put on the fake armor. Fortunately, the mob that went in the back refused to be dissuaded from looking for the Arl and got into a confrontation with a patrol. Drawn by the commotion, the guards by the rear entrance left their post for the moment to help clear out the rabble.  
With the guards distracted, the small group went through the now unprotected door to find themselves in a storage room off the kitchens. Quickly they put on their disguises while Erlina fussed and fumed over the delay.  
Led by a cold eyed, stern faced Marlana the small group made their purposeful way to Anora's quarters. She'd learned a long time ago that if you clearly knew where you were going, or at least making a good appearance of it, most tended not to challenge a person. Factor in the scowl she had on her face combined with the attitude of a pissed off sergeant, everyone got out of her way. Which extended to the others with her, having dealt with such people themselves, Oghren and Zev put on a good show of seeming to be cowed while Wynne simply looked bemused.  
Then they were finally at the room Anora was being kept in. Only the guards that had been there were replaced by a wall of shimmering, white light. Marlana crossed her arms and regarded the barrier balefully as Erlina nervously came up to it and spoke just loudly enough to be heard, "My lady, the Grey Warden is here."  
Marlana softly muttered to herself, "The Warden happens to have a name."  
Through the door came a muffled female voice, "Thank the Maker! I would greet you properly, Warden, but there's been something of a setback."  
Stifling a growl at the fact that she kept being called her title, channeled a little of the snarkiness she'd heard in Alistair's voice in the past. "Let me guess, the barrier that's on the door instead of a contingent of guards?"  
"Well, yes. I'm fairly sure the mage who cast it will be with Howe."  
She'd known it was going to come to this. "Well, I did have a few things to…discuss with him. Do you know where I can find him?"  
Wringing her hands, Erlina stammered out some simplistic directions. Thanks to Zev's previous scouting mission she had an idea of where to go since the elven woman's instructions were less than helpful. Leaving the maid babbling to her mistress, she jerked her head for her friends to follow her. The distinct lack of guards made her uneasy and wondered at Howe being so obvious with his trap. Did he honestly believe that the lack of guards would lull her into complacency?  
Finally they found the room as being the one belonging to Howe and Marlana had to stop as a flash of fury swept through her. The bastard had taken the furniture from her parents' room in Castle Cousland as his own. Not just their bedroom, but her father's study as well. She stood in silence, glaring about her as she shook with rage. Oghren and Zevran watched her warily, and Wynne lightly put her hand on Lana's shoulder, offering silent support and sympathy. Sucking in a deep breath then letting it out slowly to help her regain some measure of peace. Outwardly at least.  
Seeing that all was quiet in the room, Marlana went over to the desk and storage chest next to it to shamelessly rummage through them. One of the papers was Howe's supposed proof that her family was supposedly traitors. Her lips thinned, they were reports about her father's trip to Orlais the year before, focused on who he had met with. Only it left out the fact that he'd gone as part of a larger delegation. Officially it was for trade negotiations, but unofficially it was to help try to promote better relations between the two countries. Sure one of the nobles there had mistaken Bryce as the king, but the man was so drunk everyone, including the Orlesians present, was amazed the man was still standing.  
Fighting down her growing fury, she skimmed through the rest of the papers. The only other thing she found of interest was some documents that bore the seal of the Grey Wardens. She couldn't read it and figured that it was either in another language or coded. Stashing both sets of papers away in a pouch, Marlana regarded the door at the far end of the room and strode over to it. She didn't have to say anything as it revealed a ramp downwards.  
Partway down the ramp she froze, feeling Taint, but it wasn't darkspawn, and since Alistair and Oogie were too far away… Zevran asked softly, "What is it, my dear Marlana?"  
"There's another Warden here. And no, it's not Alistair", came her own quiet, tight, pensive response. With a determined glint in her eyes, she strode down the rest of the way to the bottom door. Slamming through the entrance, she startled the loan guard on duty, causing him to step backwards. Doing so put him in the reach of the person held in the cell he'd been watching over.  
A pair of naked and very hairy male arms snaked out of the bars of the cell, grabbed the guard's head. With an audible crack, the man's neck was broken, and the prisoner had grabbed the guard's keys before the corpse landed on the floor. Leaving the prisoner to his privacy as he opened the cell door to drag the body in, Marlana stood watch for trouble while the unknown man apparently stripped the dead guard of his armor, if the rattle of metal was any indication.  
An older man with hawkish features and shoulder length black hair that had gone to salt and pepper stepped out, dressed in the guard's armor. He had an odd mix of Orlesian and Ferelden accents as he spoke, "I thank you for creating such a distraction, stranger…"  
He trailed off under Marlana's cool gaze. "You're welcome. Warden."  
A faint frown of confusion flitted over his features, then his expression cleared, "Ah, you were Duncan's last recruit, right? I'm afraid I don't remember your name. I am Riordan, senior Warden of Jader."  
"Marlana, one of the last two Wardens of Ferelden," she said dryly. "Anyway, now isn't the time to talk. I suspect these", she dug out the packet of papers with the double griffin seal, "Belong to you."  
He accepted them with smile, "I feared Howe had destroyed them, they are records. Of Duncan's recruits, the Joining ceremony." Riordan's expression saddened, "Those lost at Ostagar."  
As the older Warden spoke, Lana pulled off her right glove, then the ring that was on her thumb, the one that bore the heraldry of Redcliffe. It'd been given to her by Arl Eamon when he declared her a champion of Redcliffe for helping save the village and his family. At first he'd intended to give her a shield like he would one of his knights until he realized that wouldn't have been a particularly useful thing for the swordswoman. Fortunately, he'd remembered a ring that had been commissioned for another person, but the Arl hadn't given the reason for why he still had the item. While it was sized for a man, at least it fit on her thumb. She pulled off the ring, then replaced her glove.  
"Take this, go to the estate of Arl Eamon and give it to him. Tell him that I sent you, he'll be able to give you safe shelter." She handed him the ring, knowing that Eamon had meant for her to redeem the favor it represented. While she never met Riordan before, he was a Warden which meant that he was a brother and one that needed the help that favor represented.  
His eyes narrowed, "And what of you lass?"  
"Oh, I have some long past due business with the good Arl", her tone wasn't the typical, deceptive calm. It was full of razor sharp ice and bloody promises to be fulfilled. She jerked her head to the way her small group came from, "Get out of here, while you can. It's obvious you're not in any shape to fight."  
Riordan hesitated, but it was clear his good sense took over and he bowed to her, "Thank you, sister."  
She nodded sharply, then lead the way into the dungeon as Riordan made his way out toward freedom.


	27. Halls of Horror

It was worse than any of them could have imagined.  
They'd all expected the guards in the dungeon to see beyond the disguises. Normally Marlana would have felt badly for killing men who were just doing their jobs for their lord. But one look at the poor woman that had been "entertaining" the guards in the room after Riordan's cell had filled her with even more fury. If that was even possible.  
Tightly, had to maintain control no matter what, "Wynne, see to her if you would."  
The older woman gently led the victim to a corner to be treated, as Oghren and Zevran made sure to keep the length of the room between them and her. Hate didn't begin to describe the expressions in green and amber eyes. Lips compressed in a fine line so she wouldn't say what was going through her mind, the Warden gathered up the coin that was mixed with cards that had been scattered on the table when they'd barged into the room. She then scavenged amongst the corpses for any more valuables. Carefully she approached Wynne and her patient. Rage surged even more when she got a good look at the girl.  
For girl she was, at least three years younger than Marlana's nineteen, if that old. After putting the coin and gems into a pouch, she handed the pouch to the much younger female. Lana tried speaking as soothingly as possible, "I know it's not enough to make up for what happened to you. But hopefully this will be enough to help you take care of yourself."  
Trembling the girl took the pouch, then gasped after looking into it, "I can't-"  
"You can, and you will. You should be able to get out through the servant's entrance."  
The girl got to her feet, impulsively hugged Marlana to Lana's surprise, "Thank you, my lady! If there is anyway I can repay you, I will." Then she was gone.  
Shaking her head bemusedly, Lana quietly called back Zev and Oghren to resume the hunt for Howe. To her surprise, the dwarf nodded his approval, "You did good with that one, kid."  
"I wish there was more I could have done."  
He patted her arm, "Don't start thinkin' like that, if you do, you'll drive yourself crazy. Well, crazier."  
She smiled faintly. "Thanks, I think, Oghren."  
A belch was his only response.  
The smiles vanished quickly as they proceeded through the dungeons. More guards were found, and what they had been watching over… Marlana thought she was inured to the horrible things people could do to one another. But the next room they went into was indescribably awful. She took one look at the bodies piled upon one another, their gruesome ends all too obvious.  
Despite everything she'd seen and done in the past year, Marlana runs out to the hallway with its comparatively cleaner air and silently loses the contents of her stomach in a corner. It's Oghren, a strangely sober Oghren, who offers awkward comfort as she leaned against a wall recovering. "You know people can do horrible things to each other when there's something they want. Or just being plain mean. I'd say don't let it bother you, but I don't want to see what you'd be like if you stopped carin'."  
She considered what he said and didn't say, "Thank you."  
Lana staggered when he clapped his hand against her shoulder, "Good! Now that we have that mushy stuff out of the way, let's go kick some more ass."  
Smiling faintly, she pushed herself away from the wall and tried to cram her feeling of sick horror into a dark corner of her mind. She didn't have the luxury of indulging in her emotions, no when there is still so much to do. She promised herself a good wallow after getting back to Eamon's estate. And after Alistair got done yelling at her.  
There were more guards and more horribly mangled bodies. But unexpectedly one of the tortured is still alive and aware. As Zevran helped Marlana free him from the rack, the man snarled, "So my father decided to teach me a lesson by delaying my rescue?"  
The two rogues exchanged confused looks before Marlana replied, "I'm afraid I don't know who you or your father are. Wynne, can you tend his injuries, please?"  
Wynne took Zev's place next to Owynn, as he introduced himself, who continued to speak with Lana. Oswynn Sighard, son of the Bann of the same name that she'd been talking to just hours before. She'd wondered why he'd been tense, but hadn't been able to discover the reason and could understand why the lord hadn't said anything. In the current political atmosphere, it wasn't a good idea to say anything.  
Oswyn quietly thanked the healer before turning back to Marlana, "So why are you here?"  
"Let's just say I have overdue business with Howe."  
The young nobleman frowned as she moved over to the side of the room to sort through the discarded items to look for clothing for Oswyn, "I'm afraid I didn't get your name. But you seem familiar."  
She silently sighed, glad to have her back to him so he couldn't see her reaction, but her civil tone didn't give her away, "Ah well, as to that. I'm Marlana Cousland, a Grey Warden."  
"Maker's breath! Bryce's youngest… Yes, I can see why you're here. But a Warden?"  
"Not my idea and a longer story than I care to tell." She handed him some clothes that weren't in too bad repair along with a pair of boots approximately his size.  
He nodded as he frowned faintly as he struggled to get dressed.  
"So how did you end up here, my lord?"  
"A drugged drink. I'd been searching for a missing friend who survived Ostagar. He'd send me word that there was more to what was going on with the War than what Loghain was letting on. He wasn't at our meeting spot and I accepted a drink from a stranger. When I woke up, I was here." He finished pulling the boots on, then shakily stood, using the rack for support.  
"Name your reward, Marlana, and I will see to it that my father will fulfill if I am not able to do so personally."  
She shook her head, "I don't need payment for an act of compassion."  
Oswyn stared at her speechlessly and Marlana made a gentle shooing motion, "Get out of here while you can, my lord, things are going to soon be getting exciting again."  
Still confused the nobleman limped off. Once out of sight Zev shook his head and tsked, "I don't think I will ever understand you, my friend."  
Lana started to head back out of the hall, "What do you mean?"  
"You just turned down the opportunity for quite a reward."  
"I seem to recall you urging me to mercy in the past without mention of payment."  
"That was different, they weren't the sons of nobles."  
"Uh huh." She frowned as something scraped at the edge of her hearing, "Brace yourselves, we've got company ahead."  
There were yet more guards and another living prisoner. Only this one had been driven insane by the torture he'd been put through. But in his incoherent ramblings it was clear he was a survivor of Ostagar. As she freed him and told the man to seek out the Chantry, she wondered if she was doing him a favor. But despite everything, a part of her still believed where there was life there was hope. Maybe with the peace of the Chantry he'd find his way back to being himself.  
Tired, beyond disgusted, Lana continued on through the halls of horrors with the others. Both she and Zev were at their most alert, waiting for traps that weren't there, guards that weren't there, and only one door that hadn't been opened…  
Behind that door was the quarry she'd been secretly hoping to hunt for the past year. In that moment she forgot about being a Grey Warden, forgot the need to go after the darkspawn, the Archdemon, stopping the Blight, the raging civil war. Seeing Rendon Howe's ugly, sneering face made her forget everything except that night of blood of fire when her world came to an end.  
Remembered the sight of her father slowly bleeding to death on the floor of the scullery.  
Remembered Duncan's grip on her shoulders as he dragged her way to a fate she didn't want and couldn't resist.  
Remembered the last sight of her mother cradling her dying father, that her mother chose death over life.  
Remembered the feel of her best friend dying in her arms, when that vibrant spirit departed to the Maker's side.  
Marlana didn't know what was going on behind his murky eyes, but she knew hers were colder than ice, that the very cold has pervaded her soul. She welcomed that iciness, it let her remain in control so that the hate and pain don't overwhelm her.  
His lips curled in disdain as he spoke, voice dripping with venom, "Well look here, Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man."  
A harsh sound that isn't a laugh escaped as she replied, "I'm a better man than you'll ever be and more woman than you could ever handle."  
She was aware that her friends were waiting for her signal to attack, even as Howe's minions were waiting for his. But right then and there, there is only the two of them and their reckoning. This was just the opening ritual that was needed to start it.  
"Brave words from the fool husk of a girl who'll end up in a dark pit surrounded by darkspawn."  
"That's the best you can do, you treacherous bastard?"  
"I'm not the treacherous one here. King Loghain has declared the Couslands the real traitors. So why are you here when there's a pretty little prince that you're supposed to be puppeting."  
"Ah yes, your infamous evidence. All you had to do was mention Orlais to get that madman to do whatever you wanted. I'm here in memory of my family for the justice they were denied."  
"Justice? The only justice is what I gave them. Your parents begged on their knees for mercy before I fucked your mother before your father died, she was a good ride while she lasted. Your brother lies rotting in Ostagar. His brat was thrown onto the scrapheap next to his Antivan whore of a wife."  
She gazed at him all too calmly. There was a fire in the ice, but his words hadn't provoked the intended response. For now Marlana was simply cold, there were no emotions for him to play with. The last of her line stood before the murderer of her family with defiance, "No more games, Howe, no more lies. The shadows can no longer protect you. It's just you and me now."  
"And there it is", he growled as he drew his weapons, "That damned glint that preceded every Cousland victory that held me back. Your father would be proud. I, on the other hand, just want you dead."  
With that comment he lashed out with his axe, but she swayed out of the path. Her blades were in her hands, and that was when the others realized she didn't have Starfang, but her family's blade that had served the Couslands for centuries. The weight of that time drove the blade as much as her flesh and muscle did. She casually blocked his next attack with the deceptively simple dragonbone sword that was once carried by Duncan, the man who had saved her the year before. She fought defensively to get Howe's measure and to lull him into a sense of complacency to let him believe that she was just a girl with more luck than skill.  
Quite frankly, Marlana was less than impressed. The man was experienced, or supposedly so. He definitely had height and reach on her, but then again most people did, but she was used to dealing with such disadvantages. His supposed sneak attacks were blatantly obvious, not to mention mundane. But she'd forgotten that not everyone had a Qunari to spar with to get used to such extreme inequality in height and strength. Nor a former Crow to help hone her own deadly attacks. Content with her evaluation, but careful not to underestimate her opponent, she struck back.  
Any other opponent she would have felt bad in the disparity since she had speed, strength as well as skill from a year of constant fighting.  
But it was Howe that she faced and she was going to extract the price he owed from his flesh and blood. So she fought to wound, small shallow slices that stung more than doing any real damage. The most unnerving thing for her companions, since they had easily dispatched the other foes handily, was how completely and utterly silent Marlana was. She continued to ignore Howe's taunts about what he did to her mother before Bryce died. What he continued to do after her father was dead and before killing Eleanor. Outwardly she was calm, but inside a terrible rage burned, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her seethe.  
If it weren't for Zevran, no one knew how long that slow, terrible execution would have gone. But unusually seriously, Zev spoke softly, "Marlana, this is not you. End it quickly for your sake, not his."  
She shuddered at his words, the ice around her soul cracking. She disarmed Howe literally by lopping off his hands at the wrist by sweeping out with her blades. Then in the same, smooth motion, Marlana swept her blades inward to neatly remove his head.  
For a long moment she stood in silence over the body of a man that had figured so largely in her childhood and mourned. Not for him, but the losses because of him. Unable to look her friends in the eyes after what she had done, she wiped off her weapons on the corpse before her, sheathed them and said quietly, "Let's get Anora and get out of here."  
There was quiet assent from the other three. They'd seen her fight before, either with determination, or desperation or even fury. But never that terrible calculated cruelty. Somewhat warily they followed her at a distance as Marlana investigated the rest of the rooms Howe had been in.  
She felt the tension between them, but didn't have the time to deal with it. Not with the other prisoners they found. She had a lot of misgivings about letting Vaughan Kendells out of his cell. But since she needed all the help she could get with the Landsmeet, she squashed her squeamish feeling about letting him out. Marlana was in no mood to try to pin Vaughn down in what he'd done to incite the Alienage to riot. Judging by his squirming, he did something.  
Soris, the elven prisoner they found near Vaughan, did agree that the nobleman had been part of the riots, but he proved equally evasive. Though in his case, it was due to the fact she was human and he didn't want any repercussions visited on his people. She silently promised to herself that when this was over and they did succeed in making Alistair the king, she would look into what really happened with the Alienage. At least he was grateful for being let out, if slightly stunned that a human would help him, unlike the miserable Vaughan.  
The third and last prisoner was a man who identified himself as Iminric, Bann Alfstanna's missing brother. At first Marlanna thought he had been driven insane as the poor Ostagar survivor they'd released earlier, but this seemed different. Then she remembered that Alistair had told her that templars were addicted to lyrium and that the withdrawals could be hard on a person. But he had been the templar who had cornered Jowan, the apostate blood mage that had poisoned Arl Eamon. Even in withdrawals the man did state that Loghain's men had taken the mage from him and had given him to Howe for imprisonment. Sickened at what had been done, she tried to coax the maddened templar out of his cell, but the man refused. He handed her his ring to give to his sister to backup her story about where he was being held.  
More than a little disturbed, the small group made their way back to the room that Anora was being held in. She was expecting Anora to somehow play both ends against the middle, but she was hoping they could evade whatever Anora had setup. Marlana was not surprised to see Anora waiting outside of the door in a guard uniform with a nervous Erlina next to her. She knew that it was too late to avoid the other trap with the way that Anora avoided her gaze while they talked briefly about how they were getting out.  
Her suspicions were confirmed when starting to leave the hall off the room the queen had been held "captive" in, that they were confronted by a small army led by none other than Ser Cauthrien.  
The knight sneered, "Why am I not surprised to find you're here, Cousland? So besides killing Arl Howe, you're also trying to abduct Her Majesty? Sadly, my lord was right about how far your Order has fallen. Even worse that you're the last of a good family." As the last words came out, even Cauthrien realized just how far she'd gone at the way as Marlana went very still and her expression visibly chilled.  
"Tell me Cauthrien, it must have taken some time to gather such a force and bring them here."  
The older woman frowned, "What is the point? You're obviously not denying the charges."  
"For Howe, it was a matter of justice, for the queen. No, I wasn't abducting her, I was trying to free her. We were brought here because she was in fear of her life and thought that the guards at the palace were compromised as well." It was easier, far easier to use Anora's lie since while Anora's reasoning may have been false, the reasons were true for why Marlana and her companions were there.  
Quickly, too quickly, Anora protested, "Cauthrien, she's lying. You know that. She forced me into this ridiculous getup thinking to smuggle me away to do only the Maker knows what."  
As Cauthrien paused to consider what was being said, Marlana quietly murmured to the other three, "Pull back into the hall, the close quarters will favor us when the fighting starts."  
There were no protests as the others saw the same grim situation and slowly moved back into the hall. As she slammed the door shut in Wynne's face, Lana said with a heavy heart, "Tell Alistair I'm sorry."  
Marlana Cousland, the last of her line, and one of the last Wardens in Ferelden, bolted the door and turned to meet her fate.  
-oOo-  
Alistair woke with a vicious headache which only honed the edge of his temper. That Lana had drugged him rather than try to talk him around hurt. But part of his anger was directed at himself because he knew she'd likely do something to keep him from coming. He wouldn't let himself feel betrayed, she'd made it clear that she'd do whatever she had to in order to keep him away from the mess with Howe. He couldn't understand why she was so desperate to do so and the normally articulate woman couldn't find the words to tell him.  
Someone stirred near him and he could hear Leli say something, but it sounded like she was at a far distance trying to yell out something incomprehensible. Even though he couldn't understand what the bard was saying, he took a chance and drank from the cup held at his mouth. It was surprisingly sweet. For some absurd reason he thought he was drinking sunshine. Whatever it was cleared up the headache nicely, but did nothing for the heartache and worry. He looked up at Leliana, his face set into grim lines, "Any word…"  
She shook her head, "Not yet." She hesitated before spoke again, "Try not to be too mad, Alistair."  
He glared at her, incredulous at her comment, "The fact that the woman I love drugged me to keep her from her side when she went into such danger shouldn't make me mad?" His voice was tight with anger underlaid with fear. More fear than anger, fear that he couldn't do anything if she was in over her head. Fear that she might never return.  
"You need to remember how young she is-"  
"What does her age have to do with anything?" He yelled as he got to his feet to start pacing restlessly.  
"Alistair, look at everything she's been through. Everything that Lana has lost. She's only just nineteen and there are such burdens placed upon her."  
He stopped to listen, when Leliana didn't say anything, he gestured for her to keep going.  
"She loves you so much that she's terrified of losing you. When you were so badly hurt in the Deep Roads she was frantic. Lana tried not to show it, but we could all see it. And now going into Howe's den? Take you near the man who was responsible for the slaughter of her family? Did you think she was going to risk taking you near him?"  
Alistair thought hard about what Leliana was telling him. "But how could she tell you and not me? If she'd told me that – "  
"You'd what, Alistair? We all know you'd still insist on going with her." She took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, "She didn't tell me all of that. We are good friends, but she's not the type to burden someone with her fears. I am a bard and I've come to know your fellow Warden well, it was easy enough for me to figure out."  
He pinched the bridge of his nose and really thought about everything. The bard had a point, it was very easy to forget how young Lana really was. Easy to forget how deeply she could feel things, despite that week long depression she'd sunk in after the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Easy to forget the quiet concerns she expressed late at night when it was just the two of them in the face of her normal confidence and competency.  
What he was about to say in response was lost even to him as Wynne rushed into the room, followed by Oghren and Zevran. The lack of Marlana's presence combined with their expressions of terror and anger told him the worst. Alistair struggled not to yell at the three, knowing it wouldn't serve any purpose except to make matters worse.  
It didn't help the sick feeling in his gut that his greatest fears had come true.  
So instead of yelling he gritted through clenched teeth, "What happened."  
"A sodding, nug-humping bitch," was Oghren's succinct response which didn't help explain anything.  
As the dwarf continued to grumble, Zev and Wynne took turns explaining what happened. The magicked door instead of guards that led them to go hunting the mage that was with Howe. Riordan's discovery and rescue, that he hadn't arrived at the estate yet was of some concern, but not enough to derail Alistair from finding out about Marlana. They glossed over the horrors of the dungeon, or how the fight with Howe went.  
Later he would admit it was a great act of bravery on the part of the mage and the assassin that they didn't gloss over the confrontation with Cauthrien, or Anora's betrayal. That there was a great deal of courage when Wynne told him how Lana sent them out of danger with the comment to tell him she was sorry.  
But when they told him those events, at first all he could think of was the loss of the woman he was going to spend his remaining years with. At first overcome by grief and despair he sank back into the chair he woke up with his head in his hands with his elbows braced against his legs. For just a brief moment as the others exchanged worried looks, he wallowed in those emotions, then very firmly put them into a little mental box for later.  
Instead he used some of his hard won templar mental discipline to get himself back under control. Alistair took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to think things through. "We haven't heard that there were any…" He swallowed, "executions. And it would be publicly done." He gave them a faint smile, "Forgive me, but I'm going to try to hold onto some hope until, well. Until we hear the worst."  
"As loathe as I am to admit to it, I have to agree with Alistair," came Morrigan's comment. Though it was surprising at the fact her tone was lacking its usual venom for the former templar, no one was surprised to see her there even though they hadn't heard her enter. "Lana is a most resilient woman. If anyone could survive t'would be she."  
When he realized they were actually looking to him for direction, Alistair scrubbed his face thinking about what Marlana would do in this situation. For a brief moment the old Alistair, the laughing fool who refused to accept responsibility of leading, surfaced saying to let someone else do this, but he firmly pushed that thought away. He'd grown past that in large part due to the quiet confidence in him. Not to mention the none too subtle or gentle shoves into him becoming more than just another follower. Even before they agreed to Eamon's mad scheme to put him on the throne.  
"So there's only one place for someone as dangerous, both in ability and politically, as Lana."  
"This would be that Fort Drakon that looms so over the city, no?" Zevran asked musingly. His teeth flashed whitely against his tanned skin as he grinned, "It will be difficult, but not impossible. A most worthy challenge of my skills." Only Leliana didn't look at him like he's insane, her pale eyes hold a similar thoughtful look. Alistair's heart clenched, he'd seen similar looks of anticipation in Lana's eyes when she was considering how she was going to tackle a challenge most sane people wouldn't even think about.  
Just as he was starting to discuss how the two rogues with Morrigan were going to see what details they could find about the Fort and more importantly where Lana was being held, a servant arrived. The man cleared his throat nervously, the Wardens and their companions were frightening enough, but since they were clearly angry and seemingly preparing for war, they were downright terrifying.  
The male Warden, and at that point the servant was too terrified to remember his own name much less the warrior's, asked curtly, "Yes?"  
"Ah, erm, my lord, the Arl needs to speak with you. Most urgent he says."  
The big man sighed in annoyance as he ran one hand through his hair, "This had better be good. He's in his study?"  
Mutely the servant nodded.  
"Fine, tell Eamon I'll be there momentarily."  
Grateful to get out the man scampered off to notify his lord of the Warden's response.  
Alistair tried, and failed, to not storm into Eamon's study since anything that was taking away from planning the rescue just made his foul mood even worse. Without taking into consideration that there might be someone else in the room with the Arl, he barged in through the door saying, "Eamon, I hope this is important."  
Someone had clearly told Eamon about the situation since the grave look in his eyes held a great deal of sympathy. Before the nobleman could say anything, an unfamiliar female voice called Alistair's name. He turned to see who it was and his vision hazed with red. While he didn't know the voice right away, he did recognize the face.  
Demonstrating an unexpected speed that would have made Marlana proud, Alistair grabbed Anora by the throat.  
With a growl he effortlessly lifted the queen by the throat into the air using only one hand. She clawed at his grip ineffectually as she slowly turned red from not getting enough air.  
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your neck like a twig?"  
Her response came out only as a gurgle.  
Eamon tried speaking soothingly, "Alistair, I don't think it's a good idea to kill the queen at this time. She may still prove helpful."  
The enraged warrior dropped Anora to the floor. She propped herself up with one arm while the other hand rubbed at her throat that had a clear imprint of Alistair's hand. He snarled, "I don't care what lies you were going to say to make you look good. I know what really happened at Howe's estate. What I will tell you is that if there was any harm or abuse that occurred to Marlana, I will destroy everything and everyone you love before I destroy you. Eamon, keep that bitch away from me and under wraps. That includes her maid."  
Not giving either of the two a chance to response, Alistair spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. There was a rescue to plan and enact.


	28. The Rescue

First they beat her when they captured her (but at least they didn't eat any for meat was her macabre thought). Marlana had given only a token resistance since this she suspected they were only pawns in Anora's game and didn't want to kill anyone who thought they were upholding the law. Still, she managed to disable a good dozen before being brought down, including Cauthrien. When she knocked the knight unconscious, the guards fell upon her like ravenous mabari on bones.  
But they made mistakes with her capture and subsequent incarceration.  
First was probably somewhat minor in the grand scheme of things, but they only bound her hands in front of her and her legs not at all. With her hands tied, some of her mobility was restricted, but not as much as if they had tied them behind her.  
Their second mistake was leaving her with only two guards. Granted the two left had made a big deal over needing so many guards for one little girl, but they hadn't been there when she was caught, nor saw the wounded that were being treated for her "gentleness".  
She wasn't impressed with the quality of men, if you could call them men, that were left to watch over her to make sure she didn't cause trouble. She recognized the type of man that never outgrew being a bully, they were used to tormenting and dominating those who were weaker than they.  
To make it even worse they were lazy and slovenly. Their armor clearly hadn't been tended to, didn't fit properly and from what she could see of their weapons, they didn't fair any better. The men themselves were even worse, clearly overweight with sagging beer bellies, unwashed and unshaven. And Marlana knew without having been told, that these were some of the scum that served Howe and gave Sergeant Kylon such problems.  
Their greatest mistake though was not making sure she was unconscious. Awake and fully aware she was able to use her most dangerous weapon: her mind.  
So she bided her time and her tongue as she considered her plans. Never once did she think about waiting for a rescue. Not that they wouldn't come for her, but Marlana couldn't count on them knowing where she was being kept. Nor could she expect them to show up in time.  
It's when the Pig and the Oaf (as she has dubbed them in her mind) began to cut off her armor, and their knives slice into flesh through the armor, that she realized she had to act. It took everything in her to keep from screaming and lashing out from the pain. Only the seemingly unending fights against darkspawn, bandits, abominations and other assorted monsters had built up her resistance to pain. The cuts weren't deep enough to hinder, and thank the Maker they didn't hit anything important, but it was incredibly painful.  
Unable to bear their attentions, especially as they peeled off her armor, and with it the light shirt underneath, that she took her chance. Only they were anticipating her reaction and before she could do so much as tense than one of them cuffed her with his sheathed blade. Her head ringing painfully, Marlana lay stunned as they finished removing the final scraps of leather that had once been her armor.  
Clad only in her small clothes, which were almost tatters, she shivered in the cold, dank air of the prison, since the shirt she wore under her armor shredded and removed with her armor. The only warmth she felt was from the blood that was slowly flowing from all the cuts in her skin from their malicious carelessness.  
It was when Pig started to unbuckle his pants then shoving aside his smalls, revealing his excitement at her vulnerable state, clearly showing his intentions towards her that Marlana's mind hastily went back into gear. Feigning more weakness than she felt, Marlana used her fear as a weapon by allowing it to cause her eyes to widen and her voice softened as she whimpered, "Please, don't hurt me anymore."  
He leered at her as his oafish friend positioned himself to get a good view, and not coincidentally block the door. The leer exposed a mouthful of rotten black stumps that had once been teeth as he said thickly, "Iffn yer a good girl, I won't hurt ye."  
Fighting down nausea and a growing terror she said softly, "I'll be good."  
The leer broadened revoltingly, "Good, now hold still, girl."  
To her disgusted surprise he grabbed her hair with one unexpectedly strong hand, then grabbed her jaw to force her mouth open with the other. Once he got her mouth open enough, he entered her mouth. Between the sense of violation and the taste of unwashed flesh, she followed her instincts. She tried to jerk her head away, but failed due to the grip on her hair.  
Her second instinct worked better. She bit down. Hard. Then chewed. As her would be rapist screamed shrilly in pain as he pulled his mangled member away, she brought her fists up between his legs as forcibly and swiftly as she could.  
Pig's screams went up in volume and octave.  
It took a few moments for the Oaf to react to the assault on the Pig since neither of them were used to a female prisoner fighting back in such a vicious manner. Those few moments were precious ones to Marlana, giving her the time to roll out of the way of the Oaf's clumsy lunge for her.  
Rolling on her back, she kicked the screaming Pig in the ass to fall into his loathsome companion. There was the thump of one dense body hitting another followed by a wet tearing sound and the screamer fell silent. She hadn't seen when Oaf had drawn his sword, but he had and his fellow guard lay gutted at his feet. Oaf snarled, "Ye'll pay for that ye little cunt. We was gonna just have some fun, but now. Now yer gonna get punished."  
He raised his sword threateningly not seeing that when Pig had undone his belt, he set aside his sword. It was grossly inferior to anything she had ever used to begin with, including pot metal practice blades, but its neglect made it even worse. Still, it was a weapon which put her ahead of her opponent.  
Marlana unsheathed the weapon by raising it over her shoulder then swinging it forward as sharply as she could. Thankfully the sheath was as loose as she thought it was, so it went flying at Oaf. It didn't do any damage, but it did startle him. Pleased that the distraction worked better than she had anticipated, she rushed the guard. The last sight he had of the living world was the way her eyes glittered with an icy malice that wasn't quite sane over a mouth wetly red from Pig's blood.  
With both men down, the Warden tried to spit out the taste of Pig out of her mouth and shook as the reaction of what happened started to set in. Ruthlessly she took herself in hand, this wasn't the time nor place for hysterics. Marlana took stock of the situation, at least they had so very kindly left her things in a chest in the same room, but without armor she was at something of a disadvantage if she got into another fight. With grim amusement she figured that her mostly naked state would serve as a distraction, but the thought that she'd be leered at in such a manner again made her skin crawl.  
Seeing that there were other chests, she rummaged through them to see if there was anything useful. Fortunately there was a leather jerkin, pants and boots, all of which were vastly too big, but that was good, they'd insure she'd be fully covered. And while they weren't armor quality, it was better than nothing.  
Before dressing, she tended to her wounds the best she could using all of the healing salves and bandages that she carried with her, which was almost inadequate to stop the bleeding, but hopefully would be enough to keep her on her feet. Rough first aid done, she dressed, trying not to feel like a little girl dressing her father's clothing. For a moment grief and fear caused her to double over at the memory, wondering if she had lost her heart family the way she'd lost her birth family. But weeping wouldn't get her anywhere. Resolutely she scrubbed her face free of tears and frowned at the slightly bloody bandage wrapped around her hand and wondered why it seemed strange.  
With hands shaking from anger (She kept telling herself that it was anger, better anger than fear and despair), she gathered up a long strip of leather that had once been her armor to use as a belt. The belt that was a part of her armor was just so many scraps now.  
As she began to sneak out of the cell, and hearing all the awful screams in that hall tell her why no one came to investigate the screaming from her cell, she started to make promises. A promise to her aching body that she'd take Oghren up on his offer of some of his special brew after letting Alistair scream himself hoarse in anger if he felt so inclined.  
The thought of her warrior, her pet templar as everyone joked, made her heart ache even more. Yet all she can think was that she was intensely grateful he wasn't there so he didn't see what happened.  
So he wouldn't look at her with disgust at what she had to do to get free.  
Marlana strapped her blades to her back, it felt damn good to be properly armed again, and made rash, and more than half mad, promises to the Maker and blessed Andraste if she could get out of this alive. She'd even be willing to spend a day shopping with Leli, or hearing Zev make his innuendos, or even one of Wynne's lectures.  
She desperately wanted to see Alistair at least one more time. Even if he walked out of her life for leaving him behind the way she did.  
Grimly she left her personal abattoir. She kept to the shadows, silently stalking behind groups of guards, using their voices, rattling armor and stomping footsteps to mask what little, if any, noise she made. Anger slowly grew in her, overriding her fear and despair, as she saw the further horrors of this place and knew that Howe had left a greater impression upon the prison than anyone had realized.  
Anger crystallized into hate when she glanced into a cell she was passing by and saw a familiar face. Making sure there were no guards nearby, she deftly picked the lock and slipped inside.  
She knelt next to the older, dark haired woman lying in the filthy straw on the floor. Grey eyes flickered open to star at Marlana dully before recognition and horror flooded them. "Oh my dear, Lana," Mallol whispered, "you need to flee this place before they get you."  
Lana gently brushed her hand over the priest's hair, "They already did and I'm getting out. I'm going to get you out as well."  
Mallol shook her head wearily, "Don't child, it won't be long until I'm at the Maker's side. But you still have a great deal of work to do in this world. I would only slow you down and for nothing. That I was able to see you on this side of the Veil, to know you're still alive, I know it was Andraste's blessing to ease my heart in my final moments."  
Tears started to pour down Marlana's blood crusted and bruised cheeks. It was like losing her parents all over again. She wasn't strong enough for this. "Don't talk like that. I'll find a way for both of us."  
The priest smiled serenely as her eyes looked through the younger woman, "Such light and glory. Maker keep and guide you, my dear girl."  
Then she was gone, eyes empty of life as the last breath left her body. Wanting to howl her grief, all Lana could do was gently close those terribly vacant eyes. Eyes that had always held warmth, compassion and wisdom through her childhood, whose owner had been willing to listen and give advice no matter how silly the childish questions were. Now all that kindness and wisdom was gone because of men who had become more evil in a way than darkspawn.  
For one dark moment that hate turned into something darker and terrible than just mere hate. But she remembered Zathrian and what his hate had done to him and to so many others that were innocent. So with that lesson in mind, she stifled the urge to howl her grief as she painted the walls red with blood. Instead the Warden slowly got to her feet, dimly aware that her rough bandages were slowly becoming soaking wet from her blood. Making sure that she wasn't leaving a blood trail in her wake, she resumed her slow stalking through the halls.  
The entire time her heart was in her throat expecting an alarm to go off over the dead guards in her torture chamber. But as she went along there was nothing.  
At least, nothing about her.  
When she did hear a ruckus, it wasn't due to her. Wondering what was going on, she moved in near a group of guards to listen in about what was going on and had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing in delight. There was a drunken dwarf outside the entrance making a nuisance of himself. He'd vomited on one guard, then pissed on another when they tried to get him to leave. No one else was willing to brave the stench to get close enough to try to shoo him away. Since he was merely a nuisance and not a real threat, they were content to leave him where he was until he got bored. Oghren, it had to be, she'd never heard of any other drunken dwarf quite that obnoxious.  
And if Oghren was out there, it meant that the others were nearby. Or so she hoped, but tried to not hope too much. With her luck, it was some other random drunken dwarf. Curious, yet careful, she approached the entrance where various guards were debating what to do about the troublemaker. She found a convenient alcove that was nicely shadowed to hide in to rest a bit while considering her options.  
Shortly after she found her hidey hole, the atmosphere turned from disgusted irritation to disgusted amusement since an elf showed up to retrieve the dwarf at the command of the elf's master. There were enough snippets of description for her to recognize Zev. Which meant it was Oghren after all and she wondered what those two lunatics were up to. Lana's musings were interrupted by a gentle bump against her leg, looking down her gaze was met by a pair of fierce yellow eyes set in the face of a pure black cat.  
"Morrigan?" She whispered softly. The cat nodded very sharply in the way only the apostate was capable of doing. Morrigan tapped the floor with one paw imperiously. Softly, "All right, Morrigan. I'll stay here for now." Another sharp nod and the "cat" bounded off. She sagged against the wall of her temporary refuge and allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes against unshed tears as her throat closed up from a complicated mix of emotions. The primary one being relief.  
Her friends had found her. Found her and were going to save her.  
Then she felt it. Him. That beloved Tainted presence. She knew that she should be upset that he was risking himself so, but the sheer joy at knowing she'd be seeing Alistair again overrode everything else. All of that fled though when two guards took up a position just in front of her alcove. Careful not to move, if she could have gotten away with it, she wouldn'tbreathe, but not breathing would have been bad. It would have meant her passing out and making it easy for the guards to recapture her. So she stood in those suddenly bare shadows, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible and with all of her will, silently screamed for those damn guards to move.  
One of them did, the much bigger of the two turned his head to look straight into her eyes.  
For a moment that felt like an eternity, she felt complete and utter despair. To have been so close… Then she realized he wasn't calling out an alarm. More importantly, those hard, angry brown eyes were incredibly familiar. Her knees weakened and she leaned against the wall for support. At that moment she didn't care at how angry he was, she got to see him at least one more time. Then Alistair shifted so that the other "guard" could move into the alcove and Marlana smiled weakly at Leli.  
First Leliana gave her some brews to drink. They helped with the pain, but with that relief came lightheadedness from the blood loss. As the bard helped her friend get into the extra suit of armor she brought, her pale blue eyes widened in horror, then narrowed in anger at the little she could see of Marlana's injuries. She murmured quietly to Lana, "Just let Alistair take the lead and concentrate on standing."  
Lana nodded numbly in acknowledgement. While she was intensely grateful that she had stopped when she did, at the same time she regretted it. Stopping meant the adrenaline leaving her system and she realized that her reserves of energy were almost nonexistent. So she let herself be led as she did everything she could to remain upright and mobile.  
So it was with Alistair in the lead that the three went to leave the Fort. When they were about to leave a gruff voice challenged them from behind, "And where do you three think you're going?"  
Alistair calmly replied, "On patrol, sergeant."  
The man grunted, "A'right, just watch out for the dwarf. Hopefully he'll get bored soon."  
"I'll see what I can do on the way out."  
"Just remember, if he pisses or pukes on you, you get to deal with the stench until your patrol is over."  
"Oh, I can be pretty persuasive, sergeant", Alistair said with a hint of his charm.  
There was another grunt before the sergeant went off to deal with more important things. The three continued on their way out without any further challenges. As they stopped where Alistair could talk to Oghren from a safe distance, she looked up at the clear blue sky and closed her eyes as she lifted up her face to bathe in the rays of the early morning sun. The long harrowing night was over. She opened her eyes when she realized there was silence and Marlana met the concerned gazes of Oghren and Zev. She couldn't say anything yet, but gave them a weak smile and a nod.  
"Right then, lad. Thanks fer tellin' me about that brewmaster near the Market District. Sounds better than this place." Oghren stomped off with Zevran on his heels "protesting" that Oghren needed to return to their master's estate. The others went in the opposite direction of the dwarf and elf, all under guise of guards heading off for patrol.  
Once they were out of sight of the Fort, they ducked into an alley, then into the doorway of a ramshackle building that had clearly seen better days and was seemingly abandoned. But Wynne and Morrigan were waiting there with Alistair's and Leliana's regular armor as well as fresh clothing for Marlana. It took both apostate and bard to help Lana get out of the armor and bloodied clothing into the fresh ones. The Warden was grateful that the lighting was dim so they couldn't see how bad of shape she was in, but they could obviously see enough to cause Leliana dismay and to enrage Morrigan.  
Wynne didn't say anything, instead concentrating on wrapping Lana up with her healing magics as the young woman got dressed. Once dressed, she turned to a grim faced Alistair. She gave him a tentative smile, "I guess you really are my knight in-"  
Lana didn't finish her sentence as the events of the last day and a half, combined with the torture she had endured, caught up to her. Alistair caught her just as she started to crumble in a faint. Then to his horror he saw the blood starting to seep through her clothing, but to his own disbelief he heard his own voice calmly ordering Morrigan to go to the estate to make sure everything was in place to tend to Marlana's wounds. Found himself pulling out the strongest healing brew they had and forcing it down her throat as Wynne did what she could to keep the young woman stable.  
Fortunately Sten was waiting for them with a wagon at the arranged meeting point. Alistair didn't think it possible, but the Qunari's expression turned even dourer at what the former templar was carrying in his arms. Leliana had to help Wynne get into the wagon since the mage had most of her concentration on keeping the female Warden alive. Lady Luck continued to favor them as the trip back to the estate was uneventful, the few guards they passed didn't even spare a glance in the direction of the wagon.  
Finally they arrived at the estate, Alistair carrying Marlana in his arms like a broken doll, through the seemingly long trip, he poured as many brews down her throat as he dared, while Leli kept handing Wynne lyrium potions to maintain her energies. Inside there was a small room with a cot, medical supplies and a few discreet servants to bring in anything else that would be needed. Morrigan sat on one side of the cot, already making more salves. Without having to be told, he gently placed the unconscious woman on the cot and quietly, but determinedly, said, "I'm staying."  
The raven haired sorceress stared at him with unreadable eyes then nodded sharply, "Well, your few redeeming qualities are that you have a strong back and can follow orders."  
Morrigan set him to be the one to clean each wound as the two mages worked on the healing. For once there was no spite or sarcasm as they worked together. And Alistair was glad to have developed a strong stomach in the past year, because as the caked on bandages were removed, he gagged at the sight of the bruise mottled skin marred with long slices carved out of her flesh. While Wynne worked on whatever she had deemed the worst injuries, Morrigan worked on the worst of the cuts. The "minor" ones she left to Alistair to put salve and fresh bandages on.  
During a brief break where she drank copious amounts of hot, honeyed tea, Wynne finally told them what needed her concentration. "The internal injuries and bleeding were severe. Anyone else… Well, let's just say that there is something to be said for that famous Warden stamina. Or Lana's stubborn nature."  
He finally allowed himself to ask the question he'd been trying to put off, but couldn't, "Is she…" Alistair swallowed, "Is she going to live?"  
The elderly mage nodded wearily, "She will. Though she'll be sore for awhile, and if I knew she'd listen, I'd insist on bedrest for at least a week. If we're lucky, we'll get her to rest for a day."  
"She will get some rest, you can be sure of it", the steel in his voice made both mages look at him in astonishment.  
But Wynne wasn't quite done yet. "The only thing that concerns me is the fact that all of the blood in her mouth wasn't hers. I hate to think about what caused her to bite someone hard enough to cause them to bleed so much. Or why she would have held on to the bite for so long."  
Even Morrigan looked ill at the thought.  
Then the healing resumed. After watching the two mages consume far too much lyrium, Wynne declared the healing done. Alistair sat beside the cot watching her sleep as the servants helped the two mages to their rooms to get some much needed rest of their own. He took up her right hand as gently as a newborn kitten his massive; battle scarred and calloused hands, unspeakably relieved at seeing her skin back to its normal golden tone. At his touch those glorious blue eyes flickered open.  
She didn't recognize the room at first and wondered if the rescue had all been a dream, that they'd healed her for the next round of torture when she realized her hand was being held, but not bound. Seeing that it was Alistair by her side, she smiled in relief, though her voice was hoarse, it was still enough to convey everything she felt at the sight of him as she whispered, "Alistair."  
When he just looked down at her with a cold, hard expression she'd never seen before, she feared for the worst, "W-who did we lose?"  
His voice was tight, "No one, but we almost lost you."  
Her throat tightened, "I-I'm-"  
He didn't give a chance to finish as he dropped her hand and abruptly stood up. The terror he had felt changed into something ugly. Uglier combined with the anger and hurt he felt. Rather than hammer her with those emotions, he simply turned away from her to leave the room.  
The soft click of the door behind him sounded so terribly final.


	29. Love and Trust

The soft click of the door behind him sounded so terribly final.  
Without thinking, she grabbed one of the bloody sheets she'd been laying on to cover her naked form as she ran out of the room after Alistair. Marlana wasn't going to let him walk away like that. He was still walking down the hall when she erupted out the door, "Alistair, dammit. Wait."  
He stopped, but didn't turn around.  
Gasping for breath, she panted, "Look, can we talk, please?"  
"There's nothing to talk about." He paused, "Wynne said you should rest. If you'll actually listen to what anyone has to say." Alistair started to walk away, his every moment reflecting his anger.  
"Damn you, you are not doing this", she growled. Did he really believe she was going to let him go without a fight? "Get back here, Alistair Theirin. We're not done yet."  
This time he stopped to turn around and glare at her. His gaze was met by furious blue eyes as she advanced on him. Despite the fact her long hair was a loose, frizzy, slightly bloodied cloud around her head that vaguely drifted down her back, and only wrapped up in a sheet, she looked terrifying. Even if she did look slightly amusing "dressed" the way she was.  
"Do you really want to have this conversation here?" He demanded angrily.  
Coldly, "It's as good of a place as any."  
"So you want to have a shouting matching in public?"  
"They're going to hear us no matter what, Alistair." Without really thinking about what was holding up her impromptu covering, she put her fists on her hips. Since she hadn't tied up the sheet and there wasn't anything else holding it up, it fell down to where her hands met her hips.  
Alistair's sense of the absurd proved to be greater than his rage at Lana. However his sense of self-preservation was still in effect as his hurt and anger started to drain away, so he kept his grin to himself. Or tried to. His lips still twitched slightly, but the smirk came out anyway as she hastily yanked the sheet back up, then crossed her arms over her chest. Which didn't help anything.  
The smirk turned into a grin which turned into laughter as first she glared at him, then her lips twitched slightly as her own sense of the absurd woke up. It wasn't long until she was laughing with him. When the laughter faded, she looked up at him silently, afraid to break the fragile peace between them. He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he crossed the distance between them in three quick, ground eating strides.  
He lightly placed his hands on her shoulders and said softly, "Let's get you cleaned up and dressed, have something to eat, then we'll talk."  
She nodded mutely. Now that the burst of anger was over, Lana found her strength and energy were rapidly fading. Hesitantly, she slid her arms around him and was more than gratified when he held her in return, he lightly buried his face in her hair the way he normally did.  
Finally, and clearly reluctantly, Alistair stepped back a bit to guide Lana into the room she'd been healed in. Once inside with the door closed behind them, it galled her to quietly admit, "Alistair… I'm going to need your help."  
He looked at her sharply, and frowned seeing that she was pale and shaking. Then he smiled softly at her "So, does this mean I get to fuss over you without you complaining about it?"  
Sitting down with a slight thump on the cot stained with her blood, and incidentally avoiding the still damp spots, Lana slanted a glance at him curiously. Just a few moments before he seemed ready to walk away and now he was commenting about fussing over her? She wasn't quite sure how to ask him about the sudden change in mood.  
Before he said anything, he grabbed the pitcher of now lukewarm water, its basin and some towels to let her start cleaning up. "I was extremely angry at you. At what happened at Howe's estate and Anora's sheer gall of showing up here after betraying you to Cauthrien."  
Lana's head snapped up and some color came back into her cheeks with a feverish intensity, "She what?"  
"Thought that'd get your attention." He smiled grimly as he spoke, took a comb, dipped it in the water and began to carefully comb her hair while she slowly began to wash what wasn't bandaged.  
"But I don't want to talk about her. Not now anyway. We'll have to later though. But for now." He gave her a sly grin, "You have a way of distracting a man. If you could have seen the look on your face when the sheet fell down. Priceless. But it helped me get past the anger."  
"I didn't do it deliberately, Alistair. I honestly forgot I was just holding it up with my hands."  
"I know, but it helped me get over the anger." Alistair took in a deep breath and let it out quickly, "Well, it was more than just anger. I was absolutely furious. And hurt. And…I was all ready to make you hurt like I was. Except, you already were, weren't you? And not just from your injuries."  
"From the moment I knocked you out."  
"But why, Lana? I could've kept you safe."  
To his horror, the damp cloth she'd been using to clean herself fell from numb fingers, her skin went cold and clammy before she started to shiver. He wrapped his arms around her for warmth and Marlana spoke in a hoarse whisper, "No, no you couldn't. No one could. I didn't want him to have a chance at you. If I could have done it alone, I would have. I didn't want him to have a chance at anyone else I cared for."  
He thought over her words. Remembered a previous conversation they had months ago.  
"Alistair, I don't have the strength, not anymore, if I ever had it."  
"The strength for what?"  
"To survive failing you like I failed everyone else."  
Then he remembered a much more recent conversation with Leli.  
"She loves you so much that she's terrified of losing you. When you were so badly hurt in the Deep Roads she was frantic. Lana tried not to show it, but we could all see it. And now going into Howe's den? Take you near the man who was responsible for the slaughter of her family? Did you think she was going to risk taking you near him?"  
He realized that being who and what she was, Lana hadn't been able to voice her fears out of concern they'd come true.  
Unaware of Alistair's introspection, Lana sucked in a deep breath, but hers came out as a sigh, all he could do was listen in silence, still trying to warm her up, "After… Alistair, there was at least a company of seasoned troops. All I could do was buy the others time. I-I didn't want to sacrifice myself, but I couldn't let them go down either. That they captured me…" She shook her head, still shivering in his arms, "I was grateful for that, grateful it was just me because they left me with just two guards who thought me a defenseless little girl."  
In an effort to cheer them both up, he lightly said, "They obviously don't know your reputation."  
Still somber, "No, they didn't. And that's what saved me in a way. If you'd been there, they would've taken you as a threat."  
He thought over how she said what saved her and Wynne's comment about the blood in Lana's mouth. As delicately as he could, "Saved you in a way. What did they do to you?"  
She shook her head and the shivers turned into shaking, "I can't tell you. If I do you'll never want me to touch you again."  
He closed his eyes, swallowed nervously and realized he had no way of delicately asking what needed to be asked. Maybe he should leave it to Leli, or Wynne, or even Maker help him, Morrigan. But he didn't think by the time one of them could talk to her, all of her emotional defenses would be back in place and they wouldn't get anything out of her. He didn't want to do it but…  
"Did they rape you?"  
She was too quiet as she said, "No."  
"Marlana…"  
"They didn't. If they did, I probably wouldn't want a man touching me, even you." Her tone went flat. "But if I told you what I did, you really wouldn't want to be intimate ever again."  
"Tell me they're at least dead."  
Finally, something that made her smile, even if it was a vicious one, "Oh yes. Very much so and at the hands of a 'defenseless little girl'."  
"Good."  
She blinked up at him. A vicious smile of his own curved his lips and he gently ran a rough finger along her cheek, "I'm glad those bastards that hurt you paid for what they did, and at your hands."  
A little grimly he let her go to resume combing the tangles out of her hair. She picked up the cloth to finish cleaning up. "I really do want to apologize, on how I handled all of this. I…know you won't be able to trust me for a long time if ever. I just…" She trailed off at a loss for words, bitterly thinking about how she could find the words to sway others to follow her against the Blight. Yet she couldn't find the means to heal the rift between them.  
"Can you promise me that you won't do that again?"  
Even knowing that it was likely to end everything between them except for being Wardens, she still owed him the truth. And she wouldn't make a promise to him that she couldn't keep. "I can't, I'm sorry. I can promise that I'll try to explain myself better."  
He sighed, "I thought so." To her astonishment, he began to gently tie her hair up after setting the comb down. "I love you, Marlana Cousland. Never forget that."  
She whispered back, wondering why he was dragging this out, "I love you too."  
"Good. Then you should know that I'm not going to give you up. Not over this. But as I said before, you need to talk to me."  
Blinking back tears and cursing herself for being maudlin, "I know…I've just never been good being all emotional and stuff."  
He chuckled and dropped a kiss on her head. Somewhat dryly, "Yes, so I've learned. Anyway, let's get you dressed and go eat. I'm starving."  
A watery chuckle burbled out of her, "You're always hungry." She started to slowly pull on the clothes with his help. "I guess we had our talk sooner than we expected."  
"Yes, so we did. That makes it easier for deciding what to do about the snake upstairs."  
"I suppose Eamon still considers her a potential ally?"  
"Unfortunately, he does. He kept me from killing her actually."  
She gave him a narrow eyed look as she started to pull her boots on, causing him to grin. "She showed up shortly after Wynne, Zev and Oghren got back and told the rest of us what happened. Eamon called me into his office and there she was. I almost strangled her, except Eamon stopped me." He paused musingly, "Hm, wonder how I should keep my promise?"  
Lana got the second boot on and stood up somewhat wobbly with Alistair's assistance, "What promise?"  
"I promised that I would destroy everything and everyone she loves if any harm came to you. I was just a little angry at the time."  
They made their way out of the room, Lana leaning against Alistair a bit more than she probably needed to. But it felt too good to be at his side again. "And she's still here? I'm surprised she didn't take off as soon as she could."  
"Oh well, as to that. I told Eamon to keep her, and her maid, under wraps."  
She thought that over, not surprised that Alistair gave Eamon an order, she knew when her templar was angry enough, he wasn't afraid to start giving commands, but that Eamon followed it… "So… Eamon has no problems keeping her locked up here?"  
"Well, she's not exactly locked up, but she hasn't been allowed to leave either. Or her maid. I think they're a little afraid of what the rest of us might do after what happened."  
She nodded thoughtfully and another thought struck her, "Has anyone checked up on the prisoners we freed?"  
He sighed in exasperation, "Lana…"  
"I know I need to rest, but there's so much that needs to be done…"  
"You're going to eat first. You may not think you're hungry, but we both know that you haven't eaten in too long. Not to mention all the fighting and what healing can do to your reserves. Once you get something solid in you, you won't be as shaky."  
"So is this where the fussing starts?"  
He gave her a sly smile, "Not even close."  
"Well, in that case." She stopped abruptly. He looked down at her curiously, she placed her hands on his shoulders to pull herself up to lightly kiss him. But Alistair didn't let her go, instead he held her closer as their kiss deepened. The taste of him and feeling of him went a long way to banishing the shadows caused by her imprisonment. Both smiled at each other, then arm in arm went into the dining room to see what they could talk the kitchen into getting them.  
Sten, Leliana, Zevran, and Oghren were waiting for them with enough food for a small army. Or four people of normal appetites and two Wardens. For a moment, those seated studied the Wardens in silence, then Oghren gestured impatiently for them to sit. As they began to serve themselves, Sten rumbled, "You are well, kadan?"  
Hearing concern in his voice made her wince internally, "Yes, I am. Thank you, Sten."  
Clearly pleased at her response, he nodded and started to eat. Oghren simply grunted, and took a quaff of ale while the other two studied her thoughtfully. She felt Alistair begin to bristle slightly next to her, so she lightly nudged him with her elbow.  
He looked down at her, "Heyyy, what was that for?"  
"Be good", she grinned at him.  
"I am being good." He looked at her plate and mock frowned, "You aren't though."  
She smiled a little at him and started to eat. At their chatter, both Zev and Leli relaxed and began to eat themselves, the relief was unmistakable in their eyes. As they ate in silence, Lana wondered when the lectures would start.  
It was Oghren who broke the tension in the way only he could. "You should be proud of your pike-twirler, Lana."  
She raised an eyebrow as Alistair started to redden slightly. The dwarf grinned, "He was very much RAWR about you being captured, though he didn't mope. He was the brains behind the whole rescue. Pity he didn't kill the Stone-Forsaken bitch though."  
Alistair coughed, slightly embarrassed, "I didn't do it all alone."  
"Well sure, it was me'n the elf that came up with the distraction. But you were the one who was all boss-like sayin' who was to do what. Still don't get why you took Leli instead of me or Sten when you went in."  
"Like we told you, Oghren, the guards are all human, they'd notice a dwarf or Qunari pretty quickly", was Leliana's exasperated response.  
"Hmph. Whatever. Shoulda seen the reactions of those sodding idiots at the Fort! They didn't know what to do with ol' Oghren."  
"I heard enough to know that some of us would appreciate not hearing the details while eating", Lana said dryly.  
He chortled while Sten looked pained as Zev and Leli exchanged revolted glances. Alistair kept his attention firmly on his food, his expression very determined at not hearing the dwarf's colorful commentary. "Don't worry, Warden. I know how sensitive stomachs you prissy types have. But I wish you could have seen those two guards' faces! Ha!"  
Zevran smiled toothily, "As revolting as it was, the dwarf is right. It was amusing, if only because they underestimated his…range."  
"Ha! Like I said, they underestimated ol' Oghren!" A yeasty belch accompanied his exclamation, an action that would normally have Lana wrinkling her nose at the smell. But she was too relieved to see everyone alive and well, including the obnoxious dwarf who still desperately needed a bath. Rheumy green eyes studied her, and another grunt, but he didn't say anything else.  
Fortunately for Lana, Sten decided to get down to business, "Kadan, what are your plans now?"  
She rubbed her forehead, she knew the answer they all wanted, which was for her to do the sensible thing and get more rest. However Alistair had been right and the food was going a long ways to getting her back to normal. She took another helping, trying not to think about the fact it was her third, when normally seconds was more than enough. "I need to check to make sure those prisoners we released from Howe's dungeons got to safety. Speaking of whom, did Riordan get here yet?"  
Zevran shook his head, "Not yet. Please tell me you do not plan on searching the city for him."  
"While I'm sure he's the only other Warden in the city besides Alistair and myself, it's too big of a place to go searching. Not when there's other things that need to be done. I like to think I learn from my mistakes. I freely admit that we should never have gone after Anora, but I let my hate blind me."  
There were looks exchanged amongst the others, including Alistair. But it was Leliana who spoke, "You paid the price, what purpose would yelling at you serve except upset us all?" The bard gave the younger woman a knowing look, "And if I know you at all, you've been beating yourself up the entire time, no? Besides, I'm sure Alistair has taken care of the yelling by now."  
Both Wardens flushed at the slight chuckles from the rest. She rubbed the back of her head, "Well, to paraphrase a certain someone, now that horribly awkward moment is over… I guess I best speak with the Arl and go from there."  
Realizing she was missing someone, and that it wasn't Shale who tried to avoid the dining room whenever possible, she frowned slightly, "So what kind of trouble has Oogie been up to?"  
"He's currently waiting up in our room. I, um, kind of bribed him to stay there." Alistair smirked at her expression. "Whaaat? All I did was give him a few beef bones. He's happy as a clam, especially since I know to keep my fingers to myself now."  
Lana smiled, then pushed her empty plate to the side, feeling much better for the food, and especially for her friends. Despite her idiocy, they were still there for her. Though she was still a little puzzled at Alistair's abrupt change of attitude. She didn't think her accidentally flashing him would make that big of a change. Taking her signal for what it was, not to mention the thoughtful look Marlana's eyes, Alistair stood and offered her his hand in a courtly gesture. Smiling she accepted his hand up to get to her feet and bid the others a good day for the time being.  
As they walked upstairs to Eamon's study, she finally asked what had been on her mind, "So why the sudden change in attitude earlier?"  
Alistair paused and leaned against the wall to regard her thoughtfully before answering. He flashed a sardonic grin at her, "Oh, you mean besides you flashing me?"  
She blushed at his comment. "You're not going to let me forget that, are you?"  
"Never."  
Then he became serious, "But the real answer to your question is. Because I remembered, almost too late, that we're both overprotective of each other, you're just quieter and sneakier about it." He reached out to skim the back of his hand along her cheek, "I love you so much, and I realized that when you wouldn't let me walk away, that you would have been chewing yourself up over how things happened. You just need to remember that love and trust really do go together. And I do still trust you, because you were acting on that protectiveness."  
Lana couldn't say anything, all she could do was just hug him, grateful that despite it all he could still forgive her.


	30. Yet More Talking

"Marlana, it is good to see you up and about. You're doing well?" Eamon asked as the two Wardens entered his study, concern coloring his voice and expression. He'd seen the bloody wreck of a woman in Alistair's arms the day before. That she was up and moving was a testament to the abilities of the two mages that had tended her injuries. Not to mention the infamous ability of Wardens to survive things that most wouldn't be able to. Neither Warden sat at the nobleman's gesture. While not unusual with Marlana, it was in Alistair's case. Particularly since Alistair stood with his arms crossed and a distinctly hostile expression on his face.  
"Well enough, thank you, my lord." Lana couldn't help but be wary by the man's concerned attitude, they'd been subtly at odds ever since she'd started playing the ugly game of politics. While he'd had the means to call for a Landsmeet, it'd been her family's name and connections that had drawn the other nobles to their cause. She also suspected the more he came to know her, the more he realized that she was far from the biddable girl he thought she was. Lana was more than a bit surprised at Alistair's attitude towards Eamon and wondered at the cause. Being wise enough not to address it, she gave the Arl most of her attention, but keeping an on Alistair.  
Just in case.  
He nodded, "Good. Alistair has informed you that Anora is a guest here as well."  
"He has." It took a bit of effort to keep her tone polite.  
The Arl grimaced slightly, "I understand how you might feel about her after what happened. However…"  
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I know. Anyway, I suppose it's better she's here where an eye can be kept on her."  
"And that shifty maid of hers", Alistair muttered.  
Eamon didn't say anything, but fixed a reproving gaze on the unrepentant warrior. Then it was his turn to sigh, "If you can, I'd like you to speak with her. She's been asking after you."  
Alistair visibly bit back a comment while Marlana's expression cooled. They exchanged glances and Lana sighed, "I'll see what I can do."  
They left the study as quickly as possible with Alistair ignoring Eamon's not-quite subtle hints to stay and talk. As they strolled down the hall, Lana slanted a curious look up at Alistair, "So why are you ignoring Eamon?"  
He grunted, "He's been too quick to cut you out of things. And even worse didn't want me to help rescue you."  
While she understood why Eamon didn't want Alistair to risk himself, she was grateful he'd been one of the ones to show. And she had to admit to herself that she had been in far worse shape than she wanted to admit since she hadn't immediately picked up on his Taint. So she only addressed the first part of his comment, "Well, you are to be king. I'm sure there're things that Eamon knows about Ferelden politics and rule that I don't."  
"Uh huh. And who was it that claimed that her father trained her side by side with her brother?"  
Lana gave him her best wide eyed look of innocence, "I have no idea of whom you're talking about."  
"Riiight." He scowled at the door they stopped at, "We'll talk about that after your talk with…her."  
Amused at Alistair's pointed refusal to name Anora, Marlana shook her head slightly at him, blue eyes glinting with the humor she wouldn't give voice to. For a brief moment, she debated changing into something better than the loose shirt and trousers she wore, but anything else would be too uncomfortable with the bandages that still covered her healing injuries.  
Marlana desperately missed the comforting weight of her armor. But Alistair was nearby if anything untoward should happen, and she still had her speed and skill. Not to mention the knives she had hidden on herself. So squaring her shoulders, she saw Alistair move down the hall somewhat so he wasn't clearly in the line of sight of whoever opened the door, then she knocked on the door.  
The door opened just enough to admit Lana, and it took every ounce of discipline Alistair possessed to keep himself from barging in after her. Instead he quickly moved back to the door and leaned against the wall. Just in case. He could feel the Taint of Lana's presence on the other side, and more importantly, the sound of her voice. He marveled again at her ability to project her voice without sounding like she was yelling.  
When she entered the room, Anora stood with both hands out in a greeting, "Marlana, thank you for meeting with me. I am sorry about how things went at Howe's Estate. I trust your injuries aren't causing you too many difficulties?"  
Pointedly not accepting the offered handclasp, she refolded her arms as she leaned against the wall next to the door. Let them think her rude, she was not going to act like everything was fine between them. Had Anora not played her games, she'd be inclined to actually work with the woman to see if they could come to some type of accord. Yet, the queen had proven she couldn't be trusted. She knew some would say that she was overreacting, but the past year had proven to her that there was something to the saying "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."  
Marlana wasn't going to allow herself to be fooled twice.  
Then there was also the fact that a woman who was almost thirty had let her father take over as regent for her instead of ruling on her own. If Anora truly was a capable ruler, why let someone else take over the throne? Why let her father be called king? It would be interesting to see if she could get an answer to those questions.  
"Cut to the chase, Anora. What do you want?"  
Irritation came and went in a flash in Anora's eyes before the older woman's political mask went back into place, "Before I cut to the chase, as you put it, I would like to offer my condolences on the loss of your family. Eleanor was always a favorite of mine, she will be greatly missed."  
Lying bitch, came the first angry thought. Marlana knew both women loathed each other. And the lack of mention of the rest of her family was telling. But she kept a firm rein on her emotions and just as smoothly murmured, "Thank you."  
Anora gave her a tentative smile, "I wanted to speak with you about the Landsmeet."  
"I imagine so. What did you have in mind."  
"I'm sure it was no great secret that I was the one who was truly ruling. Cailan was a good man, but his…heart was not there for the throne."  
"Yes, I've heard such." Marlana could see where the woman was going in this, and played a long for the moment. Just then she felt the touch of another Tainted presence that wasn't Alistair and hoped it was Riordan.  
Please dear Maker, let it be Riordan so I don't have to do my grim duty to someone who has the Taint. Again.  
Anora continued to talk without seeming to notice that Marlana's attention was slightly distracted. "Then you know I'm proven, unlike Maric's bastard. I thought he was biddable enough, but now I wonder…" Her hand started to creep up to her throat that was covered by the high neck of her gown, then stopped and dropped back to her side. Proven? Was Marlana's mental question. Proven how? The woman has had her father doing all of the ruling after hiding behind Cailan for five years.  
Gathering her somewhat scattered wits, she put a slightly conciliatory tone in her voice, Marlana replied, "Well, he was more than a little upset about the situation. Justifiably so, I'd say."  
It was amusing to watch the woman squirm a bit, and it took all of her will to keep it from showing. Anora shifted uncomfortably, "That doesn't bode well if he'll erupt like that under pressure. Though with you at his side…"  
A bland smile, "I have no desire to rule."  
"And I'm given to understand, neither does he."  
"So you want our support."  
"Indeed. In return I give the Wardens all the support you need. And of course I'll restore Highever to you."  
Marlana pretended to mull over the offer, but inwardly shook her head. All of the same could be given by Alistair and she knew he'd never betray her. Even if things had cooled between them with that act of great stupidity on her part, they were still Grey Wardens. Anora had already proven willing to be treacherous.  
"And I am aware that he could provide those things as well. But he'll be new to the crown and to the Landsmeet, he won't get the kind of support I can."  
That Anora still wouldn't say Alistair's name was telling. Did the woman honestly believe that Marlana would overlook how she was speaking about the man that Lana loved? Even if word had spread about the apparent separation between them, did Anora truly believe that Lana would turn on him like that? Apparently so, which meant Anora had no idea at all of what she was dealing with. Marlana had toyed with the idea of being honest about her misgivings about Anora to the other woman since she generally preferred being honest. But at this point, she didn't think honesty would work very well.  
"So why come to us? Surely your father has better support."  
Anora sighed and looked saddened. "I love my father, but Howe has clearly poisoned his mind. I don't know him anymore. Because of that I can't trust him, as much as it pains me to admit it."  
"So you're proposing an alliance then?" Marlana couldn't believe what Anora was saying. If the queen truly had problems with her father, why not take steps to deal with him?  
"Indeed, yours will be a strong voice in the future, if it isn't already. And between the two of us, we can accomplish more than we can separately or at odds with one another."  
It galled her to admit that Eamon was right, but having Anora on their side would make things easier. Besides, keeping her here, agreeing with the queen…it meant it'd be easier to keep a close eye on the woman, including her maid.  
"Very well. Until the Landsmeet we're allies."  
Anora smiled, "Thank you. And in the spirit of cooperation, there is something you may want to investigate. I couldn't get much in the way of details, but before his death, Howe was doing something in the Alienage with my father's support. Whatever it is, it has the elves in an uproar which is why the Alienage is locked down. I can give you a pass to get in."  
"Are you sure the guard won't cause more problems in light of recent events?"  
"I'm positive, since I'm using my father's insignia, rather than the crown's."  
"All right then. We'll go tomorrow. Is there anything else?"  
"No. Thank you again, Marlana."  
The silver-white mane bobbed slightly as she nodded and very coolly walked out the door. Seeing Alistair standing right next to the door, tight lipped and angry, but not at her, actually made her feel better. As they walked away she softly murmured, "How much did you hear?"  
His jaw clenched, "Enough."  
"I swear to you, I don't plan on actually letting her get her way."  
"Oh, I know that. It's just…how she tried to play on the loss of your family and kept calling me Maric's bastard…"  
Lana's eyes grew chilly, "Believe me, that didn't go over very well with me either."  
Alistair looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "You know, I'm surprised she survived that conversation."  
She huffed and muttered something about diplomacy as she ran her hand through the top of her hair, causing him to snicker at the absurd little tufts left in the wake of her fingers. She slanted a glance up at him through some of the strands of silver hair that fell down into her face and the snicker turned into a grin. Irritably she undid the ribbon holding back her hair to redo the tail when she realized that she felt the other Tainted presence nearby. The thoughtful look on Alistair's face told her that he sensed it as well.  
"Do you think its Riordan?" He asked.  
"Unless there's another Warden running around, I guess it is."  
He quirked up an eyebrow, "You guess? You did meet the man, right?"  
"Yes", she huffed as she retied her hair, "For all of five or ten minutes before everything else that happened."  
"You have me there, love", was all he said as he ran his hand down her hair.  
Riordan chose that moment to step out of Eamon's study. Alistair and Lana both froze in horror, while the older Warden studied them for a moment. Then he brightened, "Alistair! It is good to see you again. When Marlana mentioned another Warden, I hadn't realized it was you."  
The younger man smiled back, "I'm afraid I didn't place your name when Lana told me." He turned his attention to her, "Riordan had been at my Joining."  
That was all she needed to know and nodded her understanding. "We should probably go somewhere else to talk rather than the hall."  
Fortunately for the Wardens, it was easy enough to get the use of a small sitting room for their use, including a large pot of hot tea and assorted snacks. While Agatha may have despaired over the appetites of the two Wardens in residence (the head cook's reaction to a third Warden was a horrified "Oh Maker" before her normal practicality returned), she had too much pride in her job not to leave guests feeling neglected. Even though lunch had been only a short time before, neither Alistair nor Marlana had any qualms about digging into the generous amounts of food.  
Once they were settled in, Riordan smiled at Lana, "Ah lass, I'm glad to see that you made it away from Howe in one piece. I can testify that his hosting left a great deal to be desired."  
The two younger Wardens exchanged uneasy looks. Somewhat ruefully Lana rubbed the back of her neck, "You could say that I suppose."  
Concern was evident in Riordan's manner as he regarded her, "What happened?"  
More than a little reluctantly Lana gave a brief rundown of the events that occurred after they'd gone their separate ways.  
Riordan leaned back in his chair with his fingers steepled before him, "I'm sure you're expecting a lecture about risk and recklessness. However, I cannot do that since I've gotten into my fair share of scrapes." His teeth flashed brightly against the dark tan of his skin, "After all, look at how we initially met!"  
Still somewhat unnerved at the lack of people yelling at her, Lana tentatively smiled back.  
"Now then, since we're in a safe enough environ, I hope the two of you will tell me what exactly has been happening since Ostagar."  
Both nodded and took turns telling the long tale of their "adventures". Not surprisingly he was most interested in their sighting of the Archdemon, their dealings with Avernus (though they kept out the fact that Marlana had given in to using the results of Avernus's research. Just in case.), and particularly what they found out about broodmothers. He was silent for a long time thinking over all they'd told him.  
"I will admit there is one question above all others that I would like to ask."  
Alistair gestured for him to continue.  
"Why didn't you seek out the Orlesian Wardens?"  
Lana stared at Riordan in disbelief, hadn't they just said they didn't know how? Alistair however wasn't afraid to say what she was thinking, "How? The only ones who knew how to contact the Wardens in other countries were Duncan and the other senior Wardens. It would've been stupid to wander around a foreign country when we could do something at home. And contrary to popular belief, I'm not as stupid as people like to think and Lana is far smarter than the rest of us combined."  
"Not to mention being branded as regicides and traitors by Loghain", she added dryly as her cheeks flushed out of embarrassment from Alistair's comments about her intelligence. "Nothing would stir up that man's paranoia more than trying to run to Orlais of all places. Didn't dare take a ship either since we didn't know who to trust."  
"Maker…", Riordan breathed, horrified.  
"Hm, that's one way of putting it," was Alistair's sardonic reply. "I meant it when I said we were new. I was just a very junior member for six months at the time of Ostagar, Duncan was still training me. Lana just a day when the massacre occurred."  
"I see", came the faint response, "So how is it that Marlana came to lead?"  
The question was asked mildly, but Lana wasn't fooled. So she gave Riordan her most winning smile, "As King Bhelen said, my legendary charm."  
He eyed her warily as he rubbed his forehead. Lana asked, "I hope you can give us a quick course in being Wardens?"  
"Well, I'd be happy to tell you what I know, but it seems you've picked the important parts up yourself. Be firm in your beliefs, protect people from their own ignorance, and be as loyal as you can to your brothers, even knowing you'll share their deaths."  
Golden brown eyes turned flinty as sapphire ones visibly chilled. Riordan smiled a little, "It is true though with all that you and your companions have accomplished. Granted it isn't how most experienced Wardens would have handled the situation, however you've done a truly fine job. I know Duncan would have been proud of you both."  
Mention of Duncan caused Alistair's expression to soften slightly, but Marlana grew icier, yet her response was courteous enough and her voice didn't hold that so very deadly and gentle tone, "Thank you. Speaking of Duncan… I don't suppose you know how to do the Joining?"  
"I do. However it requires a drop of Archdemon blood. When I checked the cache here in Denerim, the supply was missing."  
He fell silent and neither of the other two had anything to say. They had no way of getting more unless they were able to get in contact with the Orlesian Wardens. In a burst of gallows humor, Lana doubted they'd be able to talk the Archdemon into giving up some of its blood. There was a glint in Alistair's eyes that mad her think he was having similar thoughts.  
Riordan broke into that strange mix of concern and morbid humor, "So what are your immediate plans? I heard enough ranting from that madman to know your plans for the Landsmeet." He smiled at their pensive faces, "Normally we prefer to stay out of politics, but these are extraordinary circumstances. After all, we must do anything to stop a Blight and its clear that you need the country united to do so. But other than the upcoming Landsmeet, what else are you planning to do?"  
Lana nodded her understanding, "Well, there's a few people I need to talk to about the other prisoners. Not to mention investigating the Alienage, apparently your not so dearly departed host was causing issues there, Riordan. Also to see if I can find some decent armor on short notice."  
"Why not check the Denerim vault? I'll give you the directions and combination to get in. It hasn't been tampered with and it is here in the Market District."  
Not used to having resources that she or her companions didn't have to scrounge for, Lana was a little nonplussed. Riordan grinned at her, "You are a Warden, as such you have as much right to use the equipment as any. More so than most when you consider all that you've done."  
"Thank you", better to keep to basic manners. "Are you going to get the Orlesian Wardens if all goes well in the next few days?"  
"As much as I'd like to get the reinforcements myself, we'll have to send a messenger. I need to go scout the horde to find the Archdemon."  
"Shouldn't one of us go with you?" Alistair asked with concern.  
Riordan shook his head," Were there more Wardens, yes. But as it is, Alistiar you are to be king and so cannot be risked in such a manner. Not to mention that the armies will need their commander."  
One pale brow quirked up questioningly.  
"It is true, Marlana, you are the one who gathered the armies and it is you that they will follow. While I know that you had help, in the end you were the one who arranged all of this."  
She dropped her head in her hands. Commander. Maker help them all, herself in particular. But she'd shouldered the burden thus far, might as well go all the way. Worse came to worse, she'd just tell the various officers what she wanted done and let them figure it out.  
More weakly than she intended, she muttered "You have a point I suppose."  
Riordan gave her a sharp look as Alistair gave her a knowing one, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire to the room the Arl so graciously arranged for me. We'll speak again later."  
After the older man had left the room, Alistair quietly asked," Well, shall we go see if there's anything we can use at this vault? Then we can go to the Noble to see if any of the people you wanted to talk to are there. Then we can get something for dinner while we're there."  
She smiled, "Sounds like an excellent idea."  
He stood and offered his hand, when she slid her hand into his, Alistair gently helped her to her feet and used the movement to pull her into his arms. Neither said anything as they held each other. Lana pressed her cheek against his broad chest, listening to the reassuring beat of hs art as Alistair buried his face into her hair, drawing in her scent. Finally she sigh and reluctantly pulled away, "We should probably get going…"  
Alistair nodded his agreement, but kept her close as they left the estate, but not before leaving word of where they would be going. They stopped at the Chantry first where both were relieved to find the madman that had indeed made his way to it. Not realizing that the man had been one of the quests given on the Chanter's board, Lana tried to refuse the generous reward, since she never believed in being paid for an act of mercy. Despite being limited to using quotes from the Chant of Light, the Chanter that was posted there at the time was quite adamant that they take it. Alistair was clearly amused at Lana's disgruntlement, though he wisely didn't say anything.  
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as they arrived at the warehouse that held the concealed Warden armory. Fortunately the workers had left for the day so they didn't have to try to find an excuse to get in there then into the vault with none the wiser. Unfortunately, the case they were told concealed the door was semi buried with assorted boxes and crates. The two stared it in dismay.  
Alistair smacked his forehead with his hand, "Maker can't anything ever be easy?"  
She sighed, "I'd heard about a curse that said 'May you live in interesting times.'"  
"Then I hope whomever cursed us gets kicked in the teeth with their own curse," came his growled response causing Lana to laugh as she bent down to move a crate.  
At least the crates and boxes proved to be empty so shifting them out of the way didn't take long. As Riordan had promised when telling them about the armory, the mechanism used to move the case was in good working order so it slid smoothly to the side. It went back into place once they entered the room and closed the door behind them. Whoever the commander was that setup the cache had made sure that there were magical glow-lights to light the windowless room without the need for lanterns, candles or torches.  
It wasn't a large room, but it was packed with assorted weapons and armor racks along with armoires and chests. Upon the first look there were several sets of good quality leather armor and light chain, but all were sized for men that were much bigger than the diminutive Marlana. Determined not to give up, Alistair took one side of the room while Lana started to halfheartedly poke through the other side. Typical of her luck she got the side full of heavy plate and other massive pieces of armor that were accompanied by assorted shields. She noticed one shield that was deliberately set to the side from the others, curious she went to examine it.  
The face of the shield bore the typical griffin insignia, so she picked it up to see if there was anything on the other side to see if she could figure out who had previously used it. While she didn't use shields herself, she knew quality when she saw it and thought that Alistair might be able to make use of it since he was uncomfortable using Maric's shield and his usual shield had seen much better days. A familiar symbol on the armstrap made her chest ache with sorrow. The same symbol was on the sword that she carried opposite Starfang.  
"Hey love, I think I found something you might find interesting", she called out.  
"Funny, I think there's something might actually fit you."  
"Uh huh."  
"I mean it", he said as he met her in the middle of the room. She eyed the dust and cobweb covered bundle in his arms warily, not to mention that he was covered in the same grime. He grinned at her very telling glance. "It's not that bad and I made sure all the creepy crawlies were shaken out."  
He grinned at her glare then said coaxingly," C'mon, try it at least. It looks small enough for you."  
"And just how do you think you know my size?" She asked archly.  
Alistair gave her a rather heated look as he said somewhat huskily," Weellll, I may not be an expert on women's clothing, but I've had my hands on your body enough to have an idea of your…dimensions." The heat went up a bit," And I know you'd agree at how good I am with my hands."  
"You are a bad, bad man", she laughed.  
He smirked at her, then looked curiously at the shield in her hands. She held the shield out to him and softly said, "I thought you might like this."  
Somewhat awkwardly they exchanged burdens and as Alistair examined the shield, she removed the dusty wrapping on the armor. She studied it for a moment, it was made of extremely lightweight darkened silverite chain topped by stiffened black leather. Once she laid it out, she saw that there were silver accents on the shoulders of the black leather doublet, a filigree design going up the center of the abdomen ending with an elaborate double griffin in silver upon the chest. Quite frankly it was one of the most beautiful sets of armor she'd seen, and could feel the power of the enchantments worked into it.  
And Alistair was right, it looked like it would fit her with a minimum of adjustments.  
It was the warrior who broke the silence, "This…this is Duncan's shield."  
"I thought so, when I saw it, I knew you would want it to have someone to remind you of him. Since you gave me his weapons…"  
He smiled at her, the light and warmth in his eyes made her stomach flutter, "Marlana, I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. That you remember something said so long ago…"  
"You know how much you mean to me, Alistair."  
He lowered the shield and reached out with one hand to run his fingers along her cheek, "But that was when we could barely call each other friends."  
Lana sighed a little, she knew it was likely to go to his head, but he deserved the truth, "I…was already starting to fall for you then. Quite frankly at the time you were the only one I knew I could trust. And, well, even though I wanted to strangle you half the time, I also liked you a great deal."  
The light in his eyes only brightened as he smiled into hers, "I love you."  
"I love you, too." It was still a relief to be able to say to him.  
"Well then, before we forget why we're really here, let's see you in that armor."  
Studying the armor, she realized that the fit was tight enough that she couldn't wear her clothing underneath like she used to with her old armor. After warning Alistair so he didn't think she finally lost it, Lana quickly stripped down to her underthings and began to pull on the armor. Fortunately the armor was lined on the inside and fit like a glove, its enchantments a gentle, enfolding warmth. Though it would take a bit to get used to the slight heel the boots had.  
"Maker, but you're beautiful", was all Alistair was capable of saying once she got the last buckle fastened, though the look in his eyes said it all. Flushing slightly from the very intense appreciation in his eyes, Lana headed out arm in arm with Alistair after putting everything back into place. It felt good to be properly armored again, better armored in fact, and she was pleased to see Alistair bearing Duncan's shield having left his old one in the armory.  
In that moment she felt like they did indeed stand a chance at succeeding.


	31. More Than Hot Air

After all that she had seen and experienced, Marlana Cousland thought she was beyond such mundane feelings as sickened horror and found that she was wrong.  
Instead she felt it all over again when her small party entered Denerim's Alienage.  
Studying the squalor of the place with cold blue eyes and a heart full of anger, she thought to herself that she should not have let Vaughn Kendells live. When her companions shifted uncomfortably, she realized she had spoken that aloud.  
"It's true. If I'd known his family allowed such neglect of their people…"  
"My dear Lana," came Zevran's voice, trying to be as soothing as possible, and trying to hide his unease, "Even you know that his family does not consider elves to be 'people'. And they are not the exception. This is typical of Alienages. I may not have lived in one, but I have had to visit them in my time."  
"We weren't perfect in Highever, but our Alienage wasn't separated in such a way and most certainly not in such a…a condition like this."  
A fluttering piece of paper with some sort of official notice on it caught her attention. When she read it, the fury only grew. Angrily she ripped it down and wadded it up. Alistair took it from her before she could throw it away and as his jaw tensed in anger while reading it, Lana said tightly, "Now I understand why elves from the different Alienages were so eager to come to Highever."  
Zevran didn't need to read the notice to know that it was one of the ubiquitous announcements against elves bearing weapons. Despite his unease at the vehemence Lana had demonstrated about feelings regarding the Alienage, the former Crow wasn't surprised at her reaction to the situation. He'd come to learn that the Warden had some interesting ideas for a noble. But that Alistair reacted in a similar way…that was interesting. A quick glance at Wynne proved a weary resignation in the older woman's eyes.  
Lana was so beyond rage that what she felt was almost terrifying to herself. The clear ongoing neglect by the Arls of Denerim was inexcusable. But this was not the time to think about what she was going to do to Vaughan Kendells when she got a chance to get hands on the miserable piece of pond scum. She needed to be calm to do her job without setting off the locals. A few deep breaths of the fetid air helped clear her head to some degree. Her gorge rose from the stench, lips tight from the refusal to get ill from the odor, not to mention the continued anger, she made her way through the Alienage. Alistair and Zevran flanked her to either side with Wynne bringing up the rear, the few guards posted in the area took one look at the young woman and made sure there was plenty of space between her and them.  
They heard the crowd of upset people before they could see it. Lana paused when she heard the word "plague", but Wynne had already anticipated her request and had already begun casting to check for illnesses just as the younger woman turned to look at the healer over her shoulder.  
"Aside from the usual illnesses from an environment such as this… I don't detect anything exceptionally virulent. But if there's a quarantine, and if it is not nearby, I may not be able to sense it just yet."  
The Warden surveyed the area with dark eyes, and her tone was matter of fact with no hint of condemnation, "I somehow doubt they would be able to contain it that effectively with their limited resources.  
She felt Alistair stiffen beside her, he was studying the area with a frown as she looked up at him questioningly. He didn't look down at her, too intent on trying to find whatever it was that had his attention. Finally he shook his head and said softly, "I feel mages nearby and it's not from Wynne's spellcasting."  
Unknown mages… a very unwelcome complication. At least Alistair had been able to sense them ahead of time so she could be prepared. "Right, let's get going."  
Going around the corner they saw the crowd of frightened and angry elves in front of a building guarded by not just soldiers, but mages as well.  
In silence she watched as an elven woman who seemed as fiery as her hair tried to send the crowd home. There was something oddly familiar about her, but Lana knew that she'd never met the other woman before now. It seemed this "Shianni" didn't believe that the mages were doing anything to help, there were comments about sudden disappearances. And oddly enough there was something about a wedding and that they should know that no one would come to help them.  
If that wasn't an opening, she didn't know what was.  
She coughed delicately to get Shianni's attention before saying, "Excuse me, ma'am."  
The elven woman spun around with a furious expression that turned even more thunderous at the sight of a human. Absently Lana noted that it figured that even Shianni was slightly taller as the other woman demaned, "And what do you want, shem?" She muttered,"As if we don't have enough problems."  
Keeping a wary eye on the unruly elves behind Shianni who seemed torn between the mages and the newest drama enfolding before them, Marlana turned a small, yet charming, smile on the elf, "Actually, we're here to help."  
Shianni scoffed, "Oh sure, out of the kindness of your heart, shem? What do you…"She trailed off as she studied the human woman, particularly the odd silver hair, "Oh. Um. You're the one who rescued Soris."  
Marlana mentally nodded to herself, so that was how the woman seemed familiar, "The young man that was 'enjoying' Howe's so called hospitality?"  
A snort was Shianni's initial reaction, "You could say that. I'm Shianni."  
"Marlana Cousland. Pleased to meet you." And mentally kicked herself for giving out her last name, but suspected calling herself Warden wouldn't be the best idea at the moment since there were still bounties on Grey Wardens. They'd gotten even higher since that long ago day in Lothering when she was first informed that Alistair and she were considered traitors. Without thinking about it, she extended a gloved hand as part of her introduction, such courtesies were ingrained.  
Shianni's eyes widened at the name and her attitude became hesitant as she cautiously accepted the quick handclasp, "So you really meant it when you said you were here to help?"  
With Shianni relaxing around the strangers, the other residents returned their attention back to the mages, allowing Lana to turn her attention somewhat to the mages as well. She nodded to the fiery redhead's question, trying to figure out what language the mages were muttering amongst themselves. While it sounded familiar, she couldn't place it. Then she a comment about a "Tevinter spell".  
Before Shianni could say anything, Marlana asked curiously, "Tevinter mages?"  
"So they say. Seems strange they'd come all this way to 'help'."  
"Tevinter isn't exactly known for its generosity. And I believe I heard you say that people have been disappearing?"  
A wary nod.  
"Before or after these so helpful people showed up?"  
"What are you getting at, m'lady?"  
Lana winced at the honorific, even if it was sarcastic, "Please, just Marlana. And I'm just trying to get information before going in blind." She was quiet for a moment, as the elven woman regarded her curiously, Lana tiredly rubbed her forehead, she had suspicions and didn't like where they were going. Sighing she finally made herself ask, "The ones that disappeared, they were healthy, weren't they?"  
"Yes. Despite what those mages have said." The tight anger in Shianni's voice meant the woman had her own suspicions, but no proof. "There are people that go into that 'quarantine hospice' that never come out. I can't figure out the pattern between those that are 'cured' and the ones never seen again."  
"Thought so. Wynne, are you close enough to that hospice?"  
"I am and I haven't been able to sense anything. Though I've had to be careful with those mages nearby."  
She really didn't like where her thoughts were going with these Tevinters, but no proof. At least not yet. She crossed her arms and considered the hospice thoughtfully.  
"Lana", Alistair sounded suspicious, "What are you up to?"  
"Yes, what are you thinking of? Don't expect me to put you back together so soon, young lady", was Wynne's acerbic comment.  
Zevran wasn't going to remain silent either, "Not to mention, don't think of leaving me behind again, oh fearless leader."  
Great, instead of lectures, they were getting overprotective. She sighed silently, if they let her do what needed to be done, she'd deal. It was only fair, and she was humbled at the fact that they still stood with her. So her tone was mild, but lacked the dangerous edge when she was ready to kill something, as she said, "I was considering a friendly chat."  
All four stared at her.  
"What? It's worked for me before."  
Shianni was incredulous, "Are you insane?" She turned to Alistair who was clearly amused that someone else thought so also, "Well? Is she?"  
"Quite probably", was her dry response. Her companions said in unison, "Yes."  
Lana simply shrugged and smiled ruefully at their answer.  
Shianni shook her head and muttered to herself "Figures the shem that's willing to help is insane." She flung her hands up in exasperation, "Fine, fine. Go talk with them. Since you did get Soris away from that sadistic bastard, you have some idea of what you're doing."  
As they walked away from the still agitated woman, Alistair asked softly, "Are you really going to just ask them?"  
"Why not? Being civil can't hurt."  
"Uh huh, because it worked so well on those abominations in the Circle, or those crazy cultists in Haven."  
"Well, I did talk Greagoir out of annulling the Circle, that's got to count for something."  
"Of course you could, we just showed him up with four people and a dog. And speaking of dogs, why didn't you take Oogie with you?"  
She sighed in exasperation, "He's been trying to collect children as pets again."  
Alistair snickered, so did the others. The first time they arrived in Denerim, the massive wardog had come bounding up to his human with a little boy in tow. It had taken a few minutes to convince the dog to take the child back where he found the boy. Lana had been on her own for that one since everyone else, including Morrigan, had been too busy laughing at the two of them.  
"Anyway, it also worked in Orzammar, not to mention Sergeant Kylon."  
"Kylon was just grateful to have someone with a brain to talk to and actually get stuff done. Besides, you know the dwarves respect the Grey Wardens."  
"So what about Zathrian and his clan? Being polite did get us pretty far with the Dalish. I seem to remember Oghren making some friends."  
Alistair just grunted as Zev could no longer contain his snickering at their mild bickering as Wynne simply sighed in exasperation. She approached one of the mages, who started to say something, stopped and regarded her with concern. "Hessian's Mercy, how long have you been ill, woman? You should have come here days ago!"  
Lana slanted a look at Alistair that she hoped he understood meant to go along with her. She seemingly wilted a bit, "Well…I have been feeling somewhat run-down."  
The second mage approached them, "It's not just the woman, Veras. Her big friend there doesn't seem much better."  
It was Alistair's turn to give a sideways glance at Lana and coughed a little, "Well, I have had a cough that won't quite go away…"  
Veras nodded thoughtfully, "Indeed. It's a wonder either of them are still standing. Come, let's get you into the hospice, it might not be too late. Your other two friends should stay outside, wouldn't want them to get infected as well."  
As she passed Zev, she gave him a subtle nod towards the door, he nodded in return. The unnamed mage went back to the elves, while Veras gestured for them to enter the hospice saying, "I'll be in there shortly to see what method of treatment will prove most effective. In the meantime, my assistants will get you comfortable."  
The door swung silently behind them, and Alistair muttered "Warded door."  
Neither Warden was surprised to see that there were no cots filled with ill patients, or the complete lack of healing paraphernalia in the large, mostly empty room. There were six guards sitting at a table, one looked up and frowned at the fact they were still armed. Another stood, smirking. "We easily out number them. And it's not every day we see such an exotic piece of ass. Make sure her face doesn't get damaged."  
The smirk fled as Alistair roared a challenge, distracting the guards enough to allow Lana the opportunity to get behind them. The fight was brief, but fierce. As usual their opponents took Alistair to be the biggest threat and focused on him. While he may have fought defensively, he still used his shield as a weapon as much as his sword, knocking a man off his feet before hammering another one with his shield. All the while his sword licked out to test their enemies' defenses.  
Using the distraction to the utmost, Marlana knocked out the one that made the mistake of talking about her like a piece of meat for questioning later. Then she went to work. Shoving a blade through the back of one man, as the other hamstrung the one next to him. The remainder fought frantically, but didn't have a fraction of skill that Alistair and Marlana had honed over the past year.  
While waiting for the unconscious man to come to, they tied him up securely before prowling around the supposed hospice for information. As they did their search, she commented, "The wards you sensed must have been for silence since no one has come running in to see what's happening."  
"Fortunately, that was in our favor."  
She nodded in agreement as she headed to a far corner where a desk tucked to the side. On it was a note stating "Bring eight males and six females for the next shipment." Next to it was a key.  
Softly and grimly, Lana said, "So it is slavers. Damn."  
"In Ferelden? In Denerim of all places?" Alistair asked angrily. "How could they get away…", He stopped. "So Howe wasn't satisfied with his insane taxes, he had to start selling people to slavers? Maker's breath, I wonder what lies he was feeding Loghain about the activities here."  
"I know, love. We'll stop it. Especially with Howe dead, they won't have anyone to cover for them. As for Loghain, he probably didn't have to say much beyond 'the elves being elves'." Her lovely features twisted up in disgust at the thought then looked over to the side, "Let's see what's behind that door."  
Once Alistair had positioned himself beside the door in a guard position, she opened it with one blade in hand. Ready to be attacked, she froze when confronted with cages holding elves, instead of more guards. One of the men pleaded, "Please let us out, I swear we aren't sick."  
"I will, but I'm going to ask that you wait in this room until I let you know it's safe to. There are still guards outside."  
The locks on the cages proved to be easier to pick than she expected, and as she worked on them, she asked, "Do you know where they were taking people?"  
The elven man shook his head, "I'm afraid not."  
"That's all right. We'll figure it out in a bit." There was a thump in the bigger room followed by muffled cursing. Alistair blandly commented, "Seems our friend is awake."  
"Just stay here. Please." She cast a worried eye on the children. "And when you do come out, cover the eyes of the children, it's not…pretty out there."  
"It's just good to be out of there, thank you my lady."  
She sighed, the young woman didn't care how they seemed to feel the need to grovel to her. She was too used to Zevran's ways, and preferred Shianni's defiance, "You're welcome, but please, just call me Marlana."  
The man was clearly startled at such basic courtesy and once again wondered if elves were treated like this in the all Alienages, or if Denerim was particularly rotten. "Ah, my, er, Marlana. I am Emyrion."  
She nodded, "Wish we could have met under better circumstances, Emyrion. Please, keep your people in this room for now, it shouldn't be much longer."  
A woman said quietly, "Just being out of that cage is a huge improvement, I think I can safely say for the rest that we can be patient just awhile longer." The other adults nodded their agreement, the few children just stared up at the human woman with eyes huge with fear.  
When the two humans returned to their prisoner, the bound man scowled up at Marlana, "Caladrius will make you pay for this, bitch."  
Alistair crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "You'd think people will come up with different threats. Or at least ones that actually mean something. Or maybe something interesting for once."  
Lana nodded her agreement, silver-white braid bobbing with the movement, "Caladrius isn't here, but I am." Her voice held an edge that was colder than the recently ended winter winds as she pulled a stiletto out of the vambrace on her left forearm and shoved the tip of the weapon into the fleshy underside of his chin. A single bead of blood flowed down the blade as he convulsively swallowed in nervousness.  
"Now then, we can do this the easy way or the painful way."  
She pulled the weapon away enough so the prisoner could talk without slicing himself to ribbons. "W-w-what do you mean?"  
"You tell me what I want to know and I make it quick and clean. Don't tell me and I give you to the elves."  
"L-look lady, I'm just a guard, we make sure the stock don't run away when the mages take it to Caladrius. And protect the mages from the rabble. Please, have mercy."  
"And where is this Caladrius?"  
"He's got a warehouse behind some of the tenements." Under her icy glare, he gave the directions, then begged for mercy again. But she wasn't feeling particularly merciful, she looked up at Alistair whose angry expression mirrored her own. Yet some small sliver of basic decency that still remained in her soul compelled to ask him silently should she grant the man the mercy he wanted. The warrior's jaw clenched as his mouth thinned and his eyes darkened as he shook his head.  
She nodded her understanding and sent the guard to the Maker's judgment with a swift thrust of a blade coated in quick death poison.  
After wiping the blade off on the dead man and returning the weapon to its place in her vambrace, she stood and said quietly, "Let's deal with the scum that's outside, before letting the elves out. I want as few innocents hurt as possible."  
"Absolutely. Maker's breath, but I still can't believe there's slavers here."  
It was inconceivable to her as well. Your average Ferelden was fiercely independent and while some looked down upon the elves, not even they would consider selling them into slavery. That Howe could do such a thing was almost more terrible than what had happened in her home. Or what she had seen in his dungeon. Almost, but not quite. "I know. We'll make them all pay."  
He nodded grimly, "Starting with those pricks outside."  
Lana quirked up an eyebrow in surprise at his language, but didn't say anything. As they went over to the entrance, she said, "I'll open the door and you smite whichever mage you can get."  
"Good thing you're short so I have a clear line of sight."  
He grinned as she glared up at him, though the otherwise impressive glare was somewhat marred by the faint smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. "If we move fast, both mages will still be clumped together so I can get them with one smite."  
Muttering that she'd get him later, Lana drew her swords then kicked open the door. Fortunately the wards weren't meant to keep the door sealed so it banged open with a flash of light, but no untoward effects. With incredible precision, Alistair got the two mages, and only one other person who was supposedly being treated by the mages. Obviously waiting for such a situation, Zevran moved fast, taking out the guards by the mages before they could react. A moment later Lana swept her blades to either side, the fast strikes taking out the door guards.  
Shocked by the sudden violence, the gathered crowd of elves was stunned into immobilization. Zev took the opportunity to bind the unconscious mages before they could wake from the smite. Seizing the moment, Lana called out, "Elves of Denerim, heed my words. There is no plague, these men", she gestured to the mages with one blade, " are here for much darker purposes. They are slavers."  
Her words provoked the people into a raucous clamor about lying shems who didn't want to let anyone help them. Shianni stood the side with a look of utter disbelief. From behind Marlana came Emyrion's voice as he walked outside, "Lady Marlana speaks the truth. There is no plague, they've been taking us prisoner, sending them wherever."  
The crowd fell silent, watching Emyrion with disbelieving eyes. One of the children emerged from the 'hospice' and her happily squealed, "Mama!" shattered the silence as she went running to a woman who knelt to the running girl with shining tears pouring down her cheeks to sweep the girl up into a tight embrace. That was the signal for the other captives to stream out and back to their kith and kin.  
Lana stood to the side, watching the reunions with a pain filled joy, blinking back her own tears. She was more than happy to help reunite people with their lost loved ones. Yet a part of her envied them greatly since she'd never be able to see her parents or brother again. Alistair draped an arm around her shoulders to hug her close despite their armor, then he dropped a kiss on the top of her head before quietly saying, "You did a lot of good here."  
"I didn't do it alone, and we're not done here, yet."  
"Maybe so, my dear Warden", Zevran said as he joined them, "But as always, you were the one to lead us into action."  
"Warden? You're a Grey Warden?" Shianni asked in a horrified voice, Lana kicked herself for not paying better attention, and she was somewhat gratified at seeing the normally imperturbable Zevran look as startled as she felt. Beside her, she felt Alistair stiffen as his arm dropped to the side, but carefully not reaching for his sword. Yet.  
"I am. I hope you understand why I kept that quiet."  
The fiery elf grimaced and nodded, "Yes, I might have turned you in for the bounties that are out there for you before."  
"Before?"  
"Yes, before. You just restored several families. We thought the plague claimed them. Do you know what they're up to? Is that why you took those mages prisoner?"  
Toying with the end of her braid, Lana sighed, "I know what they're up to. I thought I was going to have to use them as evidence so your people would listen to me."  
The other woman waited somewhat patiently.  
"They're slavers, Shianni. I have an idea of where they're located, we'll be heading out shortly to deal with them."  
Shianni's face hardened, "Since you don't need them for evidence, what do you plan to do with them?"  
"I figure let your elder decide, it's only fair for those that have suffered be able to claim justice."  
"Oh Maker, you didn't know? Elder Valendrian was one of the ones taken." Grief caused Shianni's voice to break on the last word.  
Lana closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, they were full of determination, "I hope we'll be able to find him and as many of the others as possible. Either way though, I will get justice for your people."


	32. Blood and Politics

It was as her small group was going to the area that held the slaver compound that Marlana heard a very young girl's voice ask, "When is mama coming back from Highever? I miss her so much."  
An older woman's voice, heavy with sorrow, replied, "I don't know, Amethyne. I'm sure she misses you too."  
Hearing the name made the young woman pause, remembering a conversation she had in the afternoon before her life had been destroyed and remade. How the Lady Landra's maid Iona spoke of her daughter Amethyne, a mother's pride in her child had changed her demeanor before the woman remembered who she was talking to. Lana paused to look and her heart ached.  
The little girl was the spitting image of Iona.  
A light touch on her shoulder pulled her attention away from the girl to see the concern in Alistair's eyes, unaware of how pale she'd gone. "What's wrong, love? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
She swallowed to clear the knot in her throat, "I have. The night…" She faltered. "The night that Howe attacked my home… Well, earlier that day an old friend of my mother's had arrived to spend some time with mother. Lady Landra had brought her son and her lady-in-waiting with her. The lady-in-waiting was an elven woman by the name of Iona. I had spoken with her briefly… she had a daughter that she left in the Denerim Alienage by the name of Amethyne."  
The light touch turned into a gentle grip on her shoulder, "Is she?"  
Lana nodded mutely. Then cleared her throat again, "I need to talk with Shianni. While I can't help everyone here, I can at least do something for that little girl."  
He nodded, not surprised at what she saw as her responsibility. Wynne and Zev stood nearby, but not close enough to hear their quiet conversation. From their positions it was clear that the mage had made the assassin pull back to give them their privacy. Lana gave Wynne a grateful look as she said, "I need to speak with Shianni alone about a matter."  
The two gave speculative glances in the direction of Amethyne and her guardian, but didn't say anything as they returned to where the elven woman was still wrangling her fellow citizens. Alistair moved over to the vhenadahl to wait for her. She was somewhat surprised to see Zev joining Alistair by the ancient tree. Wynne went over to minister those who would accept a human mage treating them.  
There were no sign of the Tevinters, and she didn't want to know what happened to the two mages.  
Shianni was understandably suspicious at Marlana's abrupt return, "That was fast. Already changed your mind?"  
"No", Marlana said quietly, "There's a little girl named Amethyne – "  
"Leave the kids alone, shem!"  
She recoiled slightly at the vehemence in Shianni's voice, but didn't immediately snap back. Marlana wasn't interested in causing another fight, not when she needed to keep up her energy to deal with those slavers. And to keep her raw emotions under control. Instead she gently said, "I have reparations to make."  
Amber eyes blinked in astonishment, "What?"  
"Her mother was the maid of Lady Landra, wife of Bann Loren… Landra was a friend of my mother's…" Marlana swallowed, upset at herself for getting weepy. It'd been over a year, she should be over this by now. "They were at the castle when it was attacked."  
She pulled out a small pouch thatjingled slightly and handed it to Shianni. "It is not as much as I'd like to give, but this should help whoever is taking care of Amethyne. It won't bring her mother back, but it can at least make things easier."  
Frowning at the strange human, Shianni looked into the pouch and gaped. With a snap she shut her mouth, "It's too much."  
Lana folded her arms in refusal to take back the pouch, determination clear in her posture, "It's my responsibility, Shianni. We weren't able to protect those we should have and while I can't help everyone I want, I can at least help one little girl."  
Shianni glared at her, "And you think a bit of coin will just make this all okay?"  
"I do not. As I said, it's the only way I can try to help her right now." Grimly she reached out and folded Shianni's hands over the pouch, "If it makes you feel better, use some of it to help other children here."  
Mutely, the elf nodded then stared after Marlana as the strange human went to collect her companions. The two men were laughing over something which clearly irritated the young woman. When it was obvious that it would take time for them to clam down, she stalked off to find Wynne. Fortunately for the two men, by the time Lana returned with mage in tow, Alistair and Zev had finally regained control.  
She eyed them both warily, wondering if they were going to lose it again, "Do I want to know?"  
Alistair gave her his most winning smile, "Zev was just commenting about your tendency to collect orphans."  
"My tend…" She trailed off and frowned at them, "Right, I should've known better than to ask. Let's get going, there's slavers to deal with."  
Marlana didn't bother to see if the two males were following, Wynne walked to her right, obviously as annoyed as Lana. She heard the clatter of Alistair's armor as he scrambled to catch up to her, which given the difference in stride, wasn't terribly hard. Nothing was said as Wynne fell back to allow the warrior his customary place where he could shield Lana. If she let him, which once was a source of frustration was now more of a joke between them. And their occasional banter over him protecting her had served well in distracting human enemies.  
None of that playful banter was present in the disturbingly quiet of the back ways of the Alienage as they made their way to the building that concealed the entrance to the slaver compound. There was a quiet, ominous air as they made their way through the tenement, at first Lana couldn't quite place what it was, but then realized there was no sense of people. There should have been the soft murmur of voices, the smell of smoke from hearthfires, candles, torches or lanterns, the sound of people moving about as they went about their daily tasks.  
Lana tried telling herself that it was due to the situation with the mages and the hospice that there was no one there.  
That little illusion burst when a single elven man started to carefully walk through the hall, but fled at the sight of them.  
Some part of her had known what the presence of two armed and armored humans with an elf that was as well equipped accompanied by a mage would have alarmed the residents. However she suspected it wasn't her party that had sent the locals elsewhere. Either for cover or… Well, she didn't want to think about the or.  
Finally they left the too quiet building to another alley, studying the area with cold blue eyes, aware that the others were watching for trouble, Marlana compared it to the directions she'd been given to the slaver compound. Once she was sure of the way, she silently gestured for the others to follow.  
Unsurprisingly they were stopped by a guard. One that was clearly Ferelden, and his accent only confirmed it "Hey, what are you doing here?"  
"We're here to relieve you", came the cool response.  
He frowned, "You're not Tevinter and I'm supposed on until mid-" His words ended in a gurgle as Starfang abruptly sprouted from his chest and a spray of blood came out of his mouth. His partner didn't have a chance to react as Zevran took him out with a well aimed dagger. Silently she withdrew the sword and cleaned it on the dead guard's tunic, her jaw tense with anger. The others didn't say anything as the small band swept through the exterior of the compound like a scythe.  
There was nothing that could be said to truly describe what they felt.  
Finally the last of the guards before the door fell beneath their weapons. After mechanically wiping down her swords and sheathing them, she opened the door. Waiting there were more guards, this time led by an elven woman with a bow over her shoulder. The woman's pale brown eyes narrowed in anger as she growled, "What is the meaning of this? We were told that there would be no interference from the authorities!"  
"Do we really look like the authorities?"  
The anger shifted to a sneer, "An errant group of do-gooders, then?" The Tevinter snorted in derision, "You will regret this, you know. Believe it or not, we have been given dispensation to do our business here."  
Marlana resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but simply shrugged with feigned indifference, "I'm not here to trade barbs with you, though I am surprised that you're helping sell off your own people. However I'm really here to talk with Caladrius."  
The elf stiffened, "I am not a sheep, I am a Tevinter and servant of the Minrathous Circle, which includes protecting Caladrius from barbarians such as you. But as you say, enough of the insults, I am here to stop your slaughter."  
Another shrug, "Then you'll take me to Caladrius, because I assure you that I have no issues continuing as I began, starting with you and those with you. Or we can do this the civilized way."  
Cool sapphire eyes met furious amber and it was the amber that looked away. The woman muttered, "Very well, come with me. And remember your promise to be civilized."  
Seeing Alistair's mouth twitch slightly at the exchange almost undid Lana's self-control, not to mention the wicked laughter in Zevran's leonine eyes. Wynne gave one of her long suffering sighs as they followed the slavers to their leader. As they proceeded through the "warehouse", Marlana took in as many details as she could, feeling colder and colder through the short trip. Empty cages, long lines of chains with collars, and other assorted items used by the slavers were in neat order in the different rooms that they went through.  
Finally they were brought to a large room, one that had guards around the perimeter. Not just guards, but people in more of those cages. And in the center barking orders was a fussily neat man with a clean shaven head, thick goatee wearing Tevinter style mage robes. He turned to the approaching group and sighed in exasperation at Marlana's reluctant guide. "I hope you have a good reason for bringing the Grey Wardens here, Devera."  
Devera's eyes widened as she was clearly staggered at the identity of those she led to her master. Marlana answered for the Tevinter woman in that too calm voice that her companions hadn't heard in some time, as she spoke she caught Alistair's attention and subtly gestured towards the mage. The templar nodded very slightly. "I gave her a choice. Either she brought us to you or I could slaughter my way through. She opted for the more civilized choice."  
"How very interesting. Considering how Regent Loghain has ranted and raved about you Wardens, I'm surprised you gave that option."  
Lana was stunned. Loghain was the one supporting the slavers? Not Howe? The man who had fought so hard for Ferelden's freedom was selling its citizens into slavery? A brief flicker crossed her features, too fast for anyone to guess at her dismay. Instead she raised an eyebrow slightly, "Yes, well, considering that your source of information is unreliable at best…"  
The mage stroked his beard thoughtfully, "There may be something that you say."  
"So I take it that the good regent is the one who allowed you to set up business here?" Being polite and civil to someone like this was difficult, but if she could get something she could use against Loghain... Victory at any cost, she thought bitterly.  
"Indeed, and since I've been told that you're out to erode the regent's support, perhaps we might come to an arrangement."  
She felt sick, "What kind of arrangement? And why so eager to offer it?"  
"Truth be told, there was always going to be a limit to how long we were going to be able to operate here. We've paid for many of Loghain's troops, but once the Landsmeet is done we become…inconvenient."  
Her eyes narrowed as the slaver continued on with his offer for gold from her for proof against Loghain if he was allowed to leave with his remaining slaves.  
Zevran muttered in a hard tone, "I suggest you look those elves in the eyes before you agree to have them hauled off to slavery, my friend."  
Alistair was far less subtle as he angrily demanded, "I feel dirty. We're not considering this, are we?"  
Caladrius ignored her companions, staring at her with his dark eyes, "So…do we have a deal? Given your desire for civility, this works for both of us, no?"  
Marlana regarded the mage with cool, unreadable eyes, chin in the palm of her right hand with the elbow resting the palm of her left hand, as if considering his offer. In one swift move she yanked the stiletto in her right vambrace out and into Devera as she said coldly, "No deal."  
Alistair had already gathered his will, waiting for her signal and unleashed it upon Caladrius. As she'd anticipated, the guards were too concerned at hitting their master with ranged weapons as they charged into the fray. The mage proved to be a tougher nut to crack than she had expected though, since the guards went down long before they broke Caladrius defenses.  
Broken and bloody, the Tevinter fell to his knees, gasping, "Enough! Your reputation is an accurate one. I surrender."  
There was a terrible fury in Zevran's expression as he looked at the spellcaster, something not entirely unexpected save for the fact he normally kept such emotions under wraps. But she couldn't fault him, the disgust that welled up in here, "I should give you to the mercies of the elves you have taken."  
"Wait! Hear me out, dear lady! I could…augment your physical health with the life force of the remaining slaves…"  
She didn't give him a chance to finish his offer as Starfang swept through the air to remove his head. "Zev, would you be so kind as to open the cages of the prisoners, please?"  
He smiled and bowed, "Of course, anything for you, my dear Warden."  
Shaking her head in bemusement, she turned to Wynne, "And if you could take care of what injuries you can?"  
Wynne didn't say anything as she quietly walked over to the freed elves to check them over for those that were hurt the worst. Alistair stood watch as she patted down the headless corpse for the supposed writ. And found it, complete with Loghain's seal. Despite herself, she sighed, "Oh maker."  
She'd never met Loghain personally before Ostagar, but the way her parents and brother had spoken of the man… She felt sick. This was the man even her father looked at as a hero and an example of what all Fereldens should aspire to. And he'd allowed Ferelden citizens to be sold as slaves to a Tevinter Circle. Judging by Caladrius's attitude, it was clear that the rumors of Tevinters still openly practicing blood magic were true. She hated to think of what had happened to those poor souls that were already on their way there. Tiredly she got to her feet as an older elven man approached her.  
"I take it you aren't one of the Tevinters."  
She shuddered at the thought. "Hardly. I'm Marlana, a Grey Warden, asked to look into the situation with the Alienage." Lana surveyed the wreckage of the fight with a grimace, "I never expected Tevinter slavers."  
"A Grey Warden? I've heard rumors of a Blight, but there's been no darkspawn in Denerim that I'm aware of…"  
"It's complicated, ser…"  
"Valendrian."  
Well, that was one good thing at least and her demeanor brightened, "Elder Valendrian, I'm glad we got to you in time, Shianni mentioned that you were one of the ones taken. As for darkspawn, no, nothing like that. It's…complicated."  
"Complicated?" Alistair muttered at her, "And you accuse me of understatement."  
Valendrian regarded the two humans bemusedly. "If you'll excuse me, I won't trespass on your good graces."  
Alistair shook his head, "It's no trespass, Elder. What they did here is awful, I think I can safely speak for the others that we were glad to do this."  
Having opened the last of the cages, Zev approached the rest of the group, "Indeed, the templar speaks the truth. Nasty business and nasty people, glad to have rid the world of them."  
Lana nodded, "If you want, we can escort you out of here. Not that I think there's any danger now, but just in case."  
Valendrian smiled, "Thank you, such a formidable escort would be welcome. Tell me, how does Duncan fair?"  
The two Wardens exchanged glances and Alistair said in surprise, "You knew Duncan?"  
"Indeed, he is a long time friend, but you said knew?" The elder asked in concern.  
A flicker of sorrow touched Alistair's expression, "Duncan died at Ostagar when Loghain pulled his troops."  
"Andraste's grace, you have my condolences. Duncan was a truly good person."  
The rest of the trip out was relatively quiet and Marlana's small band stood to the side as more families and friends were reunited. Paraphrasing Alistair from the time they helped clear the Peak of the demons Avernus had summoned, Lana murmured, "We did some good work today. Right?"  
Alistair didn't say anything as he dropped his arm around her, but it was Wynne who spoke up, "We did. Though I am sorry at what we've learned."  
Lana nodded slightly as she leaned against Alistair for a brief moment before gently pushing away to get on their way. They were stopped by Valendrian, "If I can have a moment more of your time, Wardens. There's something I would like you to have."  
"Ah, that's not necessary, we got the information we were sent for and were more than happy to help you and yours in the process."  
"I'm well aware of that, my lady, but it is something I want to do."  
She gave in as graciously as possible, "Very well, what did you have in mind?"  
He handed over a dagger made of dragonbone, its hilt wrapped in simple leather and on the pommel was the double griffin of the Wardens. It looked suspiciously like the dagger she bore at her waist. She accepted it reluctantly as the elf said, "Please, take this. Duncan gave it to me a long time ago. I suspect you can put it to better use than I would."  
"I… Are you sure?" Valendrian smiled and wrapped her hand around the sheathed blade, "I'm quite sure. If you'll excuse me, there's much that needs to be looked to."  
He moved at a surprisingly sprightly pace back to the still gathered throng of elves. It sounded like they were rather animatedly debating the fate of the captured mages. Lana looked down at the dagger and solemnly offered it to Alistair, "I think it's only fair. You gave me his sword and dagger at Ostagar…I think he would like you to have its mate."  
He accepted the weapon and sighed a little sadly, but simply said, "Thank you." Then tucked it into his belt before saying, "We should get back to Eamon and let him know what we've found."  
She nodded her agreement and the four slowly made their way out of the Alienage and back to Eamon's estate. The Arl was waiting for them in the main hall, his expression full of concern. "Ah, there you are! I was about to send out a search party. I've heard that you've been stirring up a commotion in the Alienage."  
"I have proof that Loghain was involved in slave trading."  
Eamon was taken back, until she handed him the writ with the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren. He read it thoughtfully, and a look of dark glee spread on his face, "Maker forgive me: I should be appalled that such a thing could exist here, but I'm overjoyed you can implicate Loghain."  
In silent disgust she took back the writ before heading up to her room. She desperately wanted to clean off the stench of blood and politics.


	33. Sulking, Solitude, and Solace

Marlana stood before the fireplace of the room she shared with Alistair, dressed in her plain shirt and trousers, an untouched goblet of wine in her hands. Her love had been dragooned into talking with Eamon despite his best attempts to slip away, she probably should have gone with them. However her temper was a fragile thing at the moment, and after the nobleman's glee at the terrible events in they had discovered in the Alienage earlier that day…she knew she'd let loose on the man. And that would have been bad. Very, very bad.  
She supposed she could go be with her companions, but the truth was, after being in near constant company when on the road, it was good to have some small measure of solitude. Well, as much solitude that she could have with a massive mabari warhound snoring away behind her. But Oogie was content to leave his human alone for the moment, glad to have her where he could keep watch on her, even in his sleep. He'd firmly decided that if his human got too broody, he'd go get Ali. The dog figured that Ali could probably use rescuing from the Annoying One by that point anyway.  
As far as Oogie considered things, that was a win-win situation.  
Maker, she was tired, she thought, not for the first time. Or even the hundredth. An almost constant complaint since this unending nightmare had started, if one she usually kept to herself. Though the time at Soldier's Peak had provided some respite, she knew the tiredness was mental and emotional. Once again she started on the mental list of any possible viable candidate strong enough to oppose Anora. Had the woman actually done anything the past year and hadn't played the games she did with Howe, Lana would let the woman keep her damn throne.  
But she couldn't trust Anora. Couldn't trust her to support the Wardens. Couldn't trust her to actually do anything about what Loghain had done over the past year. From there her mind went from doubting Anora and Loghain to doubting her ability to win the Landsmeet. Oh she had plenty of evidence against Mac Tir, but still, she worried. And not just if she could win the Landsmeet.  
She worried about if she actually did win the damn thing. And what making Alistair king would mean. What it would do to him. What it would do to them. It was foolish, but she wondered if she truly stood a chance at keeping him when he was introduced to the flowers of the nobility. They were "proper" women who knew who weren't battled scarred fighters, who knew the "gentle arts" her mother always tried to get her wayward daughter to learn. Who wanted someone to protect them and not fight that protection with every step? What chance did she stand against that?  
Marlana knew that they'd be flinging themselves at Alistair. Even the ones who were not interested in politics. And she couldn't blame them. Not only was he a strong, handsome man who was a skilled warrior, but he was a good person who was sweet and funny. And though he may have claimed to be stupid, she'd found he was smarter than he wanted to admit.  
Lana looked down at her long, slim, clever hands that were now hard and calloused and could only imagine what her mother would have said about their state. Not just their state, but the physical abuse she'd gone through in the seemingly unending battles. If her mother had been so disappointed in what her daughter became that was why Eleanor's spirit hadn't been there with Bryce's.  
As always the thoughts of her parents made her eyes bright with unshed tears and her chest ache from the loss of her family. And she cringed at the memory of what the nobles were taking to calling her. Teyrna was the least of the titles that terrified her. Now they were calling her hero. For saving Redcliffe (even though she didn't do that on her own). For putting down Uldred's rebellion in the Circle, not that she did that on her own either. Even for stopping the cultists in Haven. The last she knew she had to thank Brother Genitivi for, apparently the man had already started to talk enthusiastically about the ancient temple. He apparently focused primarily on Lana and ignored the rest of her group. So many people calling her hero made her head ache in addition to the heartache.  
Hero? She was still no hero, if anything she was even more of a butcher.  
Which led her back to wondering why Alistair would stay with her given the choice.  
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice when Alistair walked into the room. So when she didn't look up, the furious expression on his face from his latest lecture in the guise of advice with the "good" Arl quickly shifted to one of worry. In a few quick steps he crossed the room to her. He paused for a moment behind her, debating for a moment if he should say anything or not. Instead he stepped up to her then wrapped his arms around her, holding her so that her back was against his chest. Alistair hunched down enough to rub his cheek against hers, shifting so that the light scruff on his chin would brush against her skin. Normally the action would get her to giggle, but she only smiled faintly.  
He took the goblet from her hands and set it to the side before spinning her around to tuck her close, his chin resting on the top of her head and could feel her breath against the skin of his throat. Absently he stroked her long hair, glad she'd freed it from the confining braid she'd had it in earlier. "Want to tell me what's wrong, love?"  
Her arms tightened around him, "It's me being stupid."  
"Stupid", he sighed. "You're many things, but stupid isn't one of them. And no, you aren't being a burden if you share your troubles, you should know this by now." He'd be insulted if he was the only one she did that to, but she generally refused to share her troubles with anyone. When she still didn't say anything, he led her over to the couch near the fireplace, sat down and pulled her down next to him. Lana just settled against him when he put one arm around her shoulders, the other hand holding hers. Her free hand settled over the back of his hand, but she was still silent.  
"Well?" He prompted.  
Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear her reply, "I'm scared, Alistair."  
That he didn't expect. Not that she was scared, he knew she could feel fear like anyone else, it was the fact she was admitting to it. Normally she didn't let such a paltry emotion like fear bother her. It would have to be closer to terror for her to act in response, like what had happened when retrieving Anora. He gently rubbed her shoulder, "Scared of what?"  
"Tomorrow, the Landsmeet, if we lose…if we win."  
He frowned. Alistair could understand worried about what would happen if they lost. But why would she be scared about them winning?  
She sighed, "I told you I was being stupid."  
"You usually have a reason for that kind of thought. So why are you scared about us winning?"  
Lana tilted her head slightly to look up at him, eyes so dark to be almost black which scared Alistair. The last time her eyes had been like that was after encountering the spirit that was masquerading as her father. Alistair had given that time some serious thought on and off in the months since, especially when she quietly crawled away from his side to walk out the demons that haunted her sleep. He'd come to the conclusion that it wasn't her father, he didn't think any man who loved his daughter the way Bryce Cousland loved his fierce girl would have let her walk away with the emotional wounds she still carried. And where was Eleanor? He'd known her mother hadn't approved of Lana's penchant for being a fighter, but she still loved her daughter and was proud of her.  
As he waited patiently for her finally answer him, he wondered if she knew how much he'd learned about her family. First from talking with Teagan during their first stay at Redcliffe after freeing Connor from the demon that had possessed the boy, then later from her "Uncle Leonas" Bryland. He finally prompted her, "Well?"  
Lana dropped her gaze down to where his hand held hers. "I'm afraid of what being king will do to you." She hesitated, then continued, "And what it'll do to us."  
"You aren't intending to back out on your promise, are you?"  
Her heart started to break a little at how gently he asked that. She shook her head, "Maker's breath! No, but…"  
"Come on, after all we've been through, why do you find it so hard to tell me what's on your mind?"  
Lana clenched her hand over his and said in a rush, "I'm afraid that once you have a chance to meet all the other eligible noblewomen you're going to not want me anymore when you realize you can do so much better."  
When he didn't say anything, she hunched in on herself, "Like I said, I'm being stupid."  
Alistair hugged her close, "Why would I want some pampered hot house plant when I have my rose who has survived abominations, bandits and darkspawn and is still my light in the darkness? Did you really think I'd give you up for that?"  
"I know a lot of them, some of them are vipers, but there are some who are decent people…"  
"Don't you dare go there. You're the one I want. You're the first woman I ever loved and if I have it my way, you'll be the last. I will not let the damn throne get between us. So you can be sure that you're stuck with me, Marlana Cousland."  
She finally looked up into an intense golden glare and smiled weakly, "I'm sorry, I guess everything is starting to catch up to me."  
"Maybe it's too soon, but you still haven't told me everything about what happened to you in Fort Drakon. If you won't talk to me, maybe you'll talk to Leli? I think she would understand what happened to you the best of all of us."  
Lana carefully wiped her eyes with the hand he wasn't holding, "It's not that, and I will talk about it sometime when it won't be so…bad. What's bothering me is what our nominal supporters are saying about me."  
He frowned again, "When we were at the Gnawed Noble last night a great many of them were quite complimentary. In fact they all were except for that old bastard Ceorlic."  
"That's just it. I can handle being called Teyrna, even though I'm not formally acknowledged as such."  
"You most definitely are, and once we've finally dealt with the Blight, we will restore Highever to you."  
She nodded, "It's just…my father was an amazing ruler, I just don't know if I'll be able to do half as well."  
He just gave her a look. Lana sighed to herself, no matter what she said, she seemed to be scraping at his temper and squirmed uncomfortably under that glare. Fortunately for her, Oogie chose that moment to wake up and amble over to her for attention. She more than obligingly got to her feet to give her mabari the affection he was looking for. She was somewhat surprised when Alistair joined them and started to scratch the dog behind the left ear in that sensitive spot that got Oogie panting and drooling happily as he pawed at the air with his hind foot. They both laughed at the exuberant hound's antics.  
Satisfied that he broke the tension, Oogie got to his feet then flopped down in front of the fireplace, then heaved a dramatic sigh to let them know they got him tired again. Lana got back to her feet and stood over her dog, still smiling softly. Alistair stepped up behind her, putting an arm around her waist as she leaned against him. He said quietly, "There's something I want you to remember, my dear."  
"What's that, love?"  
"No matter how alone you feel, or how rough life may get, I will always love you. Remember to listen to your heart to remind yourself of what we share and use that to give you the strength to keep going."  
Now she was worried about him, "Is there something I should know?"  
He settled his chin on her head again, "Oh, there's nothing to worry about. But we both know that things are going to get worse before they get better, it's the way this past year has been. I know that you have a tendency to take on the weight of the world on your shoulders and I don't want your spirit to break from it."  
Lana swallowed, annoyed at herself for her maudlin mood and its tendency to make her weepy, "I love you."  
As they turned to go to bed, she found that there really wasn't anything else that needed to be said.


	34. Kingmaker

Blood dripped from the dragonbone sword that once served Duncan and now served Marlana. It fell with a soft patter into the pool of crimson surrounding Loghain's headless corpse. The young woman with a fierce light in her sapphire eyes, her long silver-white hair bound up with black and red ribbons into an elaborate braid, clad in black leather and silver mail, stood above the fallen Hero of River Dane. The gathered nobles of the Landsmeet stared at her in shock as Riordan regarded her with an unreadable gaze. Of all present, only Alistair didn't regard her with some degree of horror or shock, though while his expression was serious and somewhat grim, he did give her a brief wink of encouragement when he caught her gaze.  
The silent chamber still held the echoes of the terrible accusations flung at the now deceased Teyrn by Alistair and Marlana.  
"You allowed elves to be sold as slaves…"  
"…Eamon was poisoned on your orders by an apostate."  
"An apostate that your men imprisoned a templar over…"  
"Not to mention that you allowed Howe to torture that templar in addition to the other prisoners he had. Including Oswyn, son of Bann Sighard."  
There were outraged comments before Sighard was able to speak up, "Indeed and my son may never fully recover from his injuries."  
When Loghain tried to demur about Cailan not listening to reason, Marlana finally roared, "And why would he? With you constantly pushing at him in ways you know he would never listen to you! And of those who could have talked some sense into, one was dead at Howe's hands and the other was in a coma because of your orders!"  
Marlana couldn't help the harsh bark of laughter that erupted from her when Loghain called all present traitors when the Landsmeet, except for Ceorlic who would bear watching in the future, decided against the Regent. Seeing that Loghain would not bow down gracefully, and rather than have a riot in the Landsmeet, she challenged him to a duel.  
She wasn't surprised that he readily agreed, she knew that like so many others, he thought that the last Cousland wasn't much of a threat between her age and the size difference between them. Like Howe before him, Loghain didn't take into account why she'd been taken into the Wardens, or the fact she'd spent a large portion of the past year fighting. Though he wasn't the only one who underestimated her, the other nobles saw that she was almost a third of Loghain's age and was easily half the man's size. Not including the incredible difference in his massive plate armor that he took off the dead chevalier at the battle of River Dane and her much lighter armor.  
The duel was a farce and Marlana admitted to herself that it was an act of arrogance on her part.  
Loghain may have had height, reach, experience in addition to his mass and armor. But the same advantages she had over Howe were even greater against Loghain. All the sparring she'd had with Alistair might as well have been preparation for that fight. The younger warrior was at least the same height and reach as Loghain, but since Alistair was in his prime, Loghain was no comparison. And while she might have been just a little biased, she thought Alistair was easily one of the best warriors of their generation. Again, time in the Wardens and on the road had honed his natural abilities.  
But unlike her slow slaughter of Howe, Marlana made sure the duel with Loghain was as fast and as merciful as possible. For all the wrongs he had done, he'd done it in the belief that he was doing right for Ferelden. Not like Howe's all consuming greed.  
Despite her grudging sympathy, he still had to die for what he did. Left alive he'd be too great a threat, and there had to be justice of some sort for what he'd done and allowed to occur.  
Marlana still couldn't believe that Riordan wanted her to recruit Loghain. She refused to give the man a chance to throw away another army or do any further harm. Especially after she and her companions spent a stupid amount of time rebuilding after the man's previous disastrous actions. Loghain had proven he couldn't be trusted. If the rest of the Wardens didn't value being able to trust the person at their backs, she didn't want to be one.  
Oh, that's right. Marlana never wanted to be a Warden, but she did the best she could with the hand that she was dealt. And the others wondered why she never gambled. Why would she when her whole life was one big gamble?  
And now she gambled with the life of the man that she had so impossibly fallen in love with.  
Those thoughts raced through her mind as her terribly cold eyes surveyed the nobles present in the continued silence. Finally she spoke in that too mild voice that made some flinch, the challenge in her eyes and stance could be heard under that deceptive calm.  
"I name Alistair Theirin as king. Does anyone gainsay me?"  
There was still silence, though it looked like Bann Ceorlic and Anora were both going to object. However one glance at Marlana's frozen gaze made both of them keep quiet. Satisfied that she wasn't going to have to fight anyone else, she quietly walked over to Alistair. He stood resplendent in his dead brother's armor, bearing their father's sword and shield. A piece of theatrics he'd decided upon that morning, to prove they had gone back to Ostagar to pay their respects to the dead there. There had been quiet murmurs and many acted as if they'd seen a ghost when the two Wardens had made their way through the crowds. It was clear that at that moment, all Alistair saw was the lady walking to him, his concern and love for her shining through.  
Marlana Cousland, the last of her line, and unofficially acknowledged Teyrna of Highever started to kneel before her new king. Trying not to think of all that was between them, she bent her knee, head bowed, "Then, Your Majesty, if I may be the first –"  
She was cut off as strong hands in golden gauntlets gripped her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. Alistair Theirin, once a reluctant prince and now determined king, stared into her shocked eyes, his own a blazing gold from the fire within declared, "You are absolutely the last person who should kneel to me."  
Alistair gently touched her cheek with the fingertips of one hand before letting her go to stand before the Landsmeet. Though sober, the warmth he exuded drew the nobility involuntarily, much like moths to a blazing light in the darkness. "I accept my father's throne."  
Eamon hastily spoke, before Marlana could take over again, drawing more than a few sharp looks. Most present didn't miss the somewhat angry expression that flitted in Alistair's eyes or the fact that Marlana's chilled even more. "Since the Landsmeet has decided against you, Anora, you must swear fealty to our king and renounce all claims to the throne for you and your heirs."  
The former queen looked up at the Arl, a sneer marring her features as she spoke scornfully, "If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me."  
Loud enough that only Alistair heard her, Marlana muttered, "You'll need to do something about her."  
He nodded slightly in agreement, his features stony as he stated, "Put her in the Tower for now. If we fall in the Blight, she can have her throne."  
Anora stared at him in disbelief, "You would give me the throne after all of this?"  
It was Alistair's turn to sneer, "No, I said if. And I did say we, as in Marlana Cousland would have to fall as well as I for you to get the throne. We didn't go through what we have to let the country destroy itself in another civil war."  
Anora was speechless, obviously horrified at the prospect of Marlana ending up on the throne. The rest of the nobles seemed thoughtful or outraged, Eamon clearly amongst the later. Of all present, only Teagan seemed amused. Lana would have been amused except she was probably the most horrified person in the chamber at that moment.  
Once the former queen got over her shock, she said with grudging respect, "That is extremely wise of you, Alistair."  
He scowled, "Yes, well, try not to let it get out. I have a reputation to maintain you know."  
The new monarch turned away from Anora as she was quietly escorted away by guards. He studied the nobles for a moment, "Now then, my oaths as a Grey Warden demand that I must deal with the Blight before I can assume my duties as king. Because of that, I name Eamon Guerrin as my regent when I'm not here."  
"I humbly accept the honor, Your Majesty", the older man bowed deeply as he accept the position. It took all of Lana's willpower not to snort at the supposed humility displayed by the Arl.  
"I also name my fellow Warden, Marlana Cousland, as the general of my army." She was grateful that she was behind Alistair enough so that those gathered couldn't see her gape at him for a brief moment. With a loud click, she snapped her mouth shut and glared at his back. He turned to her and muttered, "We'll talk about it later, just accept it for now."  
More loudly where the crowd could hear him, he reached his hand out to her, "Shall we finish this thing together, m'dear?"  
The crowd roared its approval as she stepped forward to place her hand in his with a smile. With his lady at his side, Alistair returned his attention to the nobles, "Everyone, get ready to march. It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight!"  
There was more cheering as the Landsmeet gathered around to start their sycophantic fawning over the new king and his general. Marlana was as much a subject of their attention as Alistair, not only because of the power she clearly held on her own, but the bond that was between the two Wardens meant she was another route to gaining favor with Alistair. She proved to be a true child of her parents as she smiled coolly, made polite chitchat and made no promises.  
That sharp mind kept ticking over the entire time, making mental notes. One of them being that something would have to be done about Ceorlic later. And possibly Eamon, but that was her own personal grudge against the Arl speaking.  
Marlana's sharp eyes didn't miss how the nobles at stepped around Loghain's corpse as if he was nothing and the guards that were taking care of the deceased teyrn. She was disturbed at how they ignored the fallen man. She had no regrets at killing him and was privately pleased that the other betrayer of her family had finally paid, but she was vaguely disturbed at the disrespect that Loghain had been given. Even with all he'd done, he deserved some modicum of respect for being one of the heroes that had helped win Ferelden's freedom from the Orlesian Occupation.  
But that would have to be later. Much later.  
Once the initial crush was over, a servant quietly informed them that the leaders of the armies they'd gathered, as well as what was left of Ferelden's forces had gathered in the war room. As they extricated themselves from the assorted "wellwishers", Alistair was pulled to the side by Riordan as they started to head down the hallway, flanked by Eamon and some of the palace guard. One of the guards continued as Lana's escort while the rest went with Alistair. The big warrior didn't seem pleased about Eamon tagging along, but didn't have a chance to say anything within her earshot.  
The war room proved to be a large room that was plainly furnished. In the center was a massive table covered by a map of Ferelden, there were markers of how far the Blight had spread over most of southern portion of the country. She'd known it was bad, but hadn't aware of just how bad it was. For a brief moment she felt despair at the situation, but refused to give in. She was still a Cousland and knew her duty. More importantly she'd see it fulfilled.  
A mix of men and women were in the room, quietly conversing amongst themselves, all group according to their allegiance. Seeing the divisions in her forces was the last thing she needed and as Marlana approached the center of the room trying to remember what she'd learned from her father, the leader of the small band of dwarves present approached her. He looked vaguely familiar, since his dragonbone plate had clearly seen use and he was clearly at ease with the blade and shield at his back, she had a feeling he was warrior caste. He seemed far too competent to be noble caste after her dealings with them in Orzammar.  
He gave her a slight bow, "Atrast vala, Warden."  
"Atrast vala…"  
"Nels, captain of the forces of House Aeducan. King Bhelen sends his greetings. And if I may be so bold, congratulations on your success with your, what is it? Landsmeet?"  
She smiled, "Yes, Captain Nels, and thank you. I'm glad to see you, though I hadn't expected to see you and yours so quickly."  
"Most have gone on to your human thaig of Redcliffe, but it was felt that there should be a presence here for when you taught your human deshyrs a lesson."  
It was probably rude, but she had to laugh at the captain's all too true comment. White teeth flashed in a contrast to the luxuriant, dark beard as Nels grinned in response before heading back over to his small group.  
"Warden Marlana! It is good to see you again, my lady." Ser Perth was a more than welcome sight, after defending Redcliffe from the demon's forces she knew that he had sound judgment besides being a strong blade. She felt better having a known and friendly face present, though she was really tired of him always addressing her as my lady. Though she supposed now it was only proper considering her new position.  
Maker's breath, general of all things.  
Lana smiled back at the knight, "I'm glad to see you also, Ser Perth. I trust all is well at Redcliffe?"  
"It is and that is why I led Bann Teagan's escort to the Landsmeet. So I am here to provide any information on Redcliffe's forces that you may need."  
"Thank you, Ser, it'll be good to be able to properly plan things out this time."  
He smiled and nodded, "Indeed my lady. As well as having proper forces at our disposal this time. Not that the villagers were not valiant defenders of their homes, it was not right that the true defenders were not there to do their duty."  
"This time will be different."  
Perth nodded his agreement then faded away at the approach of another.  
Ser Cauthrien.  
The older woman's face was pale and drawn from grief. Lana felt bad for the woman, but she didn't have any other choice. Or rather the other choice was completely unacceptable to her, regardless of what Riordan said. Extremely carefully and with the utmost courtesy she said softly, "Ser Cauthrien."  
Cauthrien spoke tonelessly, "My lady, I wish to introduce you to Ser Derrick who is to lead Gwaren's forces."  
Sapphire eyes narrowed as she considered the knight's words and what wasn't being said. Derrick clearly wished he wasn't there though he looked like he could handle himself in a fight. But he didn't carry himself as one used to command. She remembered the confrontation she and Alistair had with the knight in the antechamber to the Landsmeet and suspected at what was going on. Marlana hadn't been proud of the fact she'd broken the woman with what the knight had allowed to happen, and felt even worse over the guilt displayed by the knight before Cauthrien fled the chamber with her men.  
"Ser Cauthrien, your troops are going to need you for this." Marlana paused for a moment hoping what she was about to say wouldn't go over too badly, "Think of it as your chance for redemption."  
The knight flinched, then straightened, the grief was still there, as was some guilt, and perhaps a hint of anger, but the awful defeated expression was gone. Cauthrien nodded briskly, Derrick flashed Lana a look of utter gratitude before he walked away with his commander. The involuntary general almost gave in to the urge to press the heels of her palms into her eyes to stave off the budding headache that was blossoming behind them, but didn't dare show any weakness.  
If this was Alistair's way of getting back at her for their victory in the Landsmeet, he was successful.  
One by one the rest of her war leaders introduced themselves and Lana was grateful for the training she'd been given to remember large numbers of people. She just hoped that she'd remember them all well enough to make notes to remind herself of who was who. She had a feeling she was going to forget something important with the way her head was whirling. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  
It was time to be the commander and hope she remembered what she'd learned from her brother and father.  
Coolly, calmly, she projected her voice to carry through the conversations taking place, "All right everyone, let's get started. Ser Perth and Hunter Mithra, since the two of you come from areas closest to the Horde I hope you have some details as to its movements."  
A space opened quickly at the approach of the blonde Dalish, a fierce expression on her tattooed face, though her attitude towards Marlana was one of respect. Then Ser Perth gave his report. Outwardly she was calm as she stood before the gathered leaders, hands clasped behind her back, as she listened to the reports of first the Horde, then any large bands of stragglers that had broken off the main body. Then reports of what could be expected in the way of fighters and supplies. Inwardly… she was too damn busy to actually worry about what Riordan had to talk to Alistair about without her, or even where the king was.  
She was in the midst of suggested deployments when Alistair swept into the room with Teagan and Eamon behind him. The guards that flanked the monarch and his noble companions stayed just outside of the door. Alistair smiled charmingly to those present, though only Lana saw the slight strain around his eyes, "Sorry to disturb everyone, but I need to borrow your commander for a bit. And Maker's Breath! Stop bowing and scraping already." The later was said in exasperation as everyone, save the dwarves, elves and Lana (since she didn't want to set him off even more), bowed deeply at Alistair's presence.  
Marlana turned to glare, which was halfhearted at best, at him with her arms crossed her chest, "Al…er Your Majesty, can it wait please? We're getting this mess organized and your input would be helpful."  
He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, and she noticed a little resentfully that he'd been given the chance to change out of his armor and into clean clothes even though he still had his sword at his side. "I'd like to, but it has to do with Warden business."  
Ser Perth was the one to speak up, "Begging your pardon, my lady, but you've outlined your plans well enough. We can complete the details." She eyed the knight's carefully bland expression, then she saw the others were either giving her similarly blank expressions or looking elsewhere. But she could see the faint hint of smiles behind those carefully composed masks. Well, except for Captain Nels. The dwarven captain wasn't bothering trying to hide his smirk.  
"All right, I give up, I'll leave this in Ser Perth's capable of hands."  
Teagan smiled at her along with some of the others in the room at her good natured grumbling, "I promise, dear lady, I shall keep meticulous notes."  
Obviously not caring about what might be said, Alistair dropped his arm around her shoulders as he always did when he felt sure they wouldn't be attacked. Glad for the comfort of his presence, Lana slid her arm around his waist and leaned a little against him as they left the war room for whatever destination Alistair had in mind. The two guards fell in beside them with practiced discretion. With far less discretion than the guards, Eamon fell in behind them, which caused Alistair to scowl slightly at the Arl. It took some effort for Marlana to try to ignore the glare she could feel boring into her back.  
They reached a comfortably appointed sitting room, the guards took up positions at the doorway, but when Eamon went to follow the king and his lady, Alistair growled, "I said this was private."  
With that comment, he slammed the door closed in Eamon's face then locked it before shoving a chair under the doorknob. Surprised at Alistair's actions, she raised her eyebrows questioningly.  
Alistair scrubbed at his face, "The man seems to think that he can shove his nose in where he wants. He tried listening in on Riordan's chat with me. Which we need to talk about."  
Before he could say anything else, Lana reached up to pull his face down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her close before sliding a hand up her back to tangle it in her hair. Both were breathing heavily when they finally came up for air. For a moment they stood there holding each other and smiling. He gently pulled his fingers out of her hair and caressed her check, Lana placed one gloved hand over his, keep it in place.  
With a gentle sigh, he quietly said, "Thank you, I needed that."  
She smiled somewhat crookedly, "I did that for purely selfish reasons."  
"Uh huh", he said teasingly. Then he shook his head, "By the Maker, you did it. You won the Landsmeet and made me king. And don't you shake your head like that, that was purely you. And you were absolutely magnificent. I didn't think anyone could shout down Loghain the way you did."  
"So you're not upset about how I handled everything?"  
"Lana", he said in exasperation.  
She squirmed a little, the way she did when she needed to say something that she thought might be uncomfortable. He shook his head, "Hold that thought for a moment. I decided to horribly abuse my new station by having our things brought over to the palace, figured you might want to get out of your armor since I know you're still adjusting to it."  
"You're the best, love."  
"Yes, well, it was rather convenient that you had us pack up before the Landsmeet." He grinned as she started to change and headed over to where a couple of platters with cheese, fruit, bread and pastries sat, next to them a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured them a glass each, "Also figured since neither of us have eaten since breakfast that a snack might be a good idea. I suspect the palace staff remembers how to deal with Wardens who want something to munch on."  
Finished changing, Lana drifted over to where Alistair was waiting. He handed her a glass with another smile and as she sipped from the glass, she studied the food. More than a little ruefully she had to admit it really was a snack, though she remembered a time when that amount of food would have made a meal and then some. Still smiling a little, Alistair made a production of seating her before seating himself. For some reason that reassured Lana that even though she ended up playing kingmaker things between them hadn't changed.  
They ate for a few moments in comfortable silence, finally Lana wiped her hands then took a sip of wine, working up the nerve to ask what she originally intended to ask, "Well, I was asking if you were upset about how I handled the Landsmeet because you weren't the one who got to have, well, your revenge."  
He stared at her incredulously, "I'm not even sure where to begin with that."  
Lana looked down at her glass she quietly said, "I got my revenge on Howe, though I hadn't intended to do so at the time. And I cheated you of your chance at Loghain."  
"Andraste's flaming sword, you're worried about that?"  
"Well, you haven't said much about it, but I know you wanted to get back at him…"  
Alistair scrubbed his face, he loved her dearly, but there were times he just didn't get Lana's thought processes. "Yes, I wanted him to pay for what he did. And he did. Best of all at the hands of a Warden, one who not only lost as much as I did, but more so. Truthfully, I'm glad you were the one to do it, you were far kinder than I would have been."  
"I'd hardly call beating the crap out of a man that my father fought with as being kind."  
He grimaced, "It was though. What I would have done if I'd been in that position… Really, it's better that the Landsmeet didn't see that side of their new king."  
"Oh, I don't know, they might actually behave themselves if they did", she said somewhat dryly.  
"Riiiight. Anyway, there's something more important I wanted to discuss with you."  
"Your talk with Riordan?"  
"Yeah." He got to his feet and began to pace restlessly. "He saw where things were going with us and wanted to warn me about yet another wonderful effect of the Joining."  
Her mouth suddenly went dry and with her stomach sinking, she asked, "What is it now?"  
"The Taint…it reduces fertility… Apparently it's hard enough for a Warden to have a child with a non-Warden, but two Wardens…"  
Lana closed her eyes as she unconsciously placed one hand on her abdomen. She whispered, "I understand."  
Stopping in mid-step he frowned at her, "Understand what?"  
"That you'll need someone who can…" She almost couldn't say it, but made herself say it anyway, "Can give you an heir."  
"You didn't just say that." He couldn't believe what she was saying and it was making him angry. All they've been through and she was going to let this stop them?  
She still couldn't look up at him, "I don't want to cause you problems later down the road."  
His lips thinned, "You're thinking of Eamon, aren't you?"  
A silent nod.  
"Sod him", was Alistair's vicious response that finally got her to look up at him in wide eyed astonishment. He stalked over to her and gripped her shoulders tightly, "Look at all we've been through, all we've done that everyone said would be impossible."  
He gave her a gentle shake, "Besides, where there's life, there's hope, right?"  
"You like using my own lines on me, don't you?" She asked while smiling wryly.  
"Of course, besides, I'll use my better lines on you later", he said suggestively, relieved at the fact Lana was finally coming around as she smiled a bit more naturally.  
"Anyway, now that we've got the angst and drama over, I wanted to tell you about that…little complication for one reason." He let go of her shoulders and pulled a small object out of his sleeve before kneeling before her. Alistair took up her hand in with his free one and looked into her eyes earnestly.  
"Will you be my wife and Queen, Marlana Cousland?"  
For a brief, horrifying moment, she couldn't say anything. They'd been leading up to this for a long time now. Hadn't she agonized over this just the night before? But now it was finally out between them. And really, was there any other answer she could give?  
"Yes. It would be my greatest pleasure and honor to spend the rest of my life with you, Alistair Theirin."  
With a warm smile that lit up his eyes, he slid the delicate silver ring with sapphire chips and golden filigree on her finger. It caught the light in the room, shining with its own inner fire, one that matched the fire in their eyes as they leaned forward to kiss.


	35. Bargains Dark and Bright

Redcliffe was overrun by darkspawn. After all that had been done to protect it before, a good portion of the village was aflame from the monsters' rampage. But there wasn't something quite right about the situation.  
The darkspawn had been expected, yet there weren't near as many of the tainted creatures as had been expected. A faint frown marred Lana's features as she surveyed the cleanup of the battlefield in and around the town. In the distance she could feel the pounding pulse of more of the fiends. They were in the direction of the castle, but troops had already been dispatched to relieve the beleaguered residents.  
"The main body of the Horde can't be here, Lana. There's not nearly enough darkspawn in the area… I can't believe I'm complaining about not enough darkspawn." Alistair commented as he walked up beside her. He was back in his battered silverite warden armor with its blue and gold enamel, the golden double griffin on the breastplate shining brightly despite the gloom of the day, flat out refusing to wear Cailan's armor again. The warrior hadn't been happy about being kept out of most of the fighting, but no one was eager to let the new king put himself into danger.  
No one really wanted to see Marlana on the throne alone. Marlana especially since she knew that her viewpoint on leading had been grossly skewed by everything she'd gone through. That was the reason she admitted to herself. In reality it was the unconscious, and somewhat irrational, fear that the events at Highever would repeat themselves if she found herself crowned as Queen rather than Queen-Consort.  
"I know, and I can't feel that many nearby either. I hope Riordan will finally come through with decent information." Lana had been suspicious of the Orlesian Warden ever since his actions at the Landsmeet, his insistence on speaking with just Alistair before abruptly leaving. He had told them he'd been planning to scout the Horde, but the way he had been acting made her mental hackles rise.  
Alistair reluctantly agreed, not happy about not trusting another Warden. There was no more reluctance after Riordan tried to get them to recruit Loghain with no concrete reason.  
He rubbed his forehead, "I'm wondering if he didn't manage to get himself eaten."  
She snorted, "No kidding, it'd fit right in with the rest the way the past year or so has gone. Well, except for us, somehow."  
A small grin tugged at his lips at the last part of her comment, "You're quite right on that, my love." Then he turned serious, "We should probably check on the castle, see if there's any news there."  
"Agreed." She gestured to Sten and Oghren, whom she was using as seconds to help direct the forces under her command. A good number of people weren't too happy with her choices, the humans and elves because of the fact neither of them were from their races. The dwarves were aggrieved because they all remembered the drunkard. Not that Oghren had stopped drinking. He'd toned it down partly because he didn't want to let Lana down.  
The main reason was due to her promise to knock him out and shave off his beard if he got drunk under her command.  
Lana had chosen them for a two simple reasons. She trusted them and they knew how to handle large troop movements. Privately, she wondered if she wasn't as bad as Loghain in her inability to trust easily, but that was something she would have to deal with later. However she didn't have any illusions about being a military genius, she wasn't used to leading such a large number of people, while the Qunari and dwarven warriors did.  
Sten was the first to approach them and spoke with a salute, "Kadan. Warden."  
"We're going to head to the castle, have most of the troops relocate there. Leave a detail here to deal with the dead darkspawn. After all the work we've put into the place, I don't want it to end up corrupted."  
He nodded, "As you wish. I will let the dwarf know."  
"Thank you, Sten." As he walked away, the two Wardens collected the rest of their companions, though it took a bit to get Shale, since she was occupied in going after some loose chickens. As the motley group made its way, reports came in stating that the castle was also clear of darkspawn. Alistair and Lana exchanged glances, since they could still feel another group in the area. He shook his head at the latest messenger, "There's still more, go warn them up at the keep."  
They arrived in time to see the wave of darkspawn appear, this one led by an incredibly massive ogre, charged through the broken portcullis into the courtyard. With their tainted blood howling in frustration at being kept out of the previous battle, the two Wardens plunged into the fray, forgetting for the time about why they had to let others hold the front lines. As Alistair smote a nearby emissary, Lana went after the ogre. The massive creature was just starting to turn around as it sensed the Wardens, when the silver and black blur that was Marlana crashed into it.  
Slicing first at its hamstrings to distract the huge beast, she whipped around behind it. Just as she had done to the broodmother they'd encountered in the Deep Roads, she used her blades to scale the back of the ogre, grimly hanging on as it howled and stamped trying to reach her ineffectually. Finally she got to its head and shoved both blades down, springing off the falling giant nimbly, rolling into a deadly, bladed whirlwind amidst a nearby group of hurlocks.  
Then there were no more darkspawn to fight, and none within sensing for Lana. Covered in blood that wasn't their own, not even breathing heavily, Alistair and Lana grinned at each other from the exhilaration of the fight.  
"If I knew I wasn't wasting my breath, I'd remind you about your responsibilities. But I know better now", came Wynne's tart comment behind them.  
Tucking a stray strand of silver hair behind one ear, Lana gave the elderly mage a sheepish look, "I'm sorry, Wynne, it's just…"  
"Yes, yes, I know." She sighed, "There were darkspawn and you're still Wardens."  
Another messenger came running up to Alistair, "Your Majesty", he gasped out, "Arl Eamon sends his regards and asks if you'll see him and Warden Riordan."  
He exchanged glances with Lana, identical surprise in golden and sapphire eyes. "Huh, so he is alive, who would've thought that actually happening?"  
One corner of her mouth quirked slightly, "I know, right? So it seems at least one thing went as planned…" She spoke to the guard, "If you would be so kind as to inform your lord we'll be there shortly?"  
The guard gave them a baffled look before leaving to deliver their response, muttering under his breath about Wardens and insanity. Grinning to themselves, they checked on the soldiers that had been holding the courtyard with them as neither of them sensed any more darkspawn nearby.  
By the mercy of the Maker none of the soldiers had been tainted, so they didn't have to perform one of the more awful duties that being a Warden required. Satisfied that all was as well as could be, they went up the steps and into the castle proper.  
For those in the main hall, it was like seeing a ghost come back to life when Alistair strode briskly into the large chamber. In that brief moment he looked so much like his father, that those who had known the elder Theirin felt a chill go down their spines. But the battered Warden armor and the silent shadow that glided by Alistair's side shattered that illusion, since the young woman in stark black and silver armor, with her golden skin, silver hair and sharp sapphire eyes was nothing like Rowan.  
Eamon gave a slight smile at the new king, and a much more strained twitch of the lips at the future queen-consort. Both of them ignored it, even though Alistair still had a few things in mind to say to the nobleman who had tried to get them to break their engagement. The Arl had overheard Alistair's conversation with Riordan about the supposed issues that Wardens had with fertility. First he had tried to get Marlana to break the engagement, thinking to play on the sense of duty that the Couslands were notorious for. Instead that conversation resulted in a positively furious woman who came very close to destroying yet another high ranking Ferelden noble.  
Somehow she had managed to restrain herself, but Alistair had heard enough of the "discussion" (he'd never realized just how loudly Lana could yell when truly pissed off) that he'd been set off as well. It was the underhanded manner that Eamon had used that set the two of them off, had he sat them down to talk it over like adults, they may have given some consideration to his concerns. But he'd treated them like children, seemingly ignoring all that they'd accomplished without him, acting as if only he knew what was good for Ferelden.  
That attitude had been the final straw for Alistair. He'd always respected the nobleman who raised him until the man started pushing him to taking the throne after telling Alistair that he wasn't in line for. Then his subtle and not so subtle attempts at trying to separate them even before Riordan's little conversation…  
Maybe Alistair was being selfish in this matter, but he wasn't going to let Eamon get in the way of his happiness this time. Or Lana's after all that she had been through.  
Unaware of how…unfriendly Alistair's thoughts were towards him, Eamon said warmly, "It's good to see you, Alistair, but Riordan has some disturbing news."  
Riordan nodded, he was clearly exhausted, "Yes, I…listened in as it were on the Horde. They aren't coming to Redcliffe."  
Lana frowned, "Then where are they going?"  
"To Denerim, and there is worse news I am afraid. The archdemon has been seen. It's at the head of the Horde."  
"What?" Alistair asked in shock, as Lana's eyes narrowed, up until they got to Redcliffe, the reports had been consistent about the direction the Horde was going. "I thought that the darkspawn were on their way here. We didn't catch any indication of them going to Denerim on our way here."  
The older Warden nodded tiredly, "I know, but a few days ago they drastically changed their direction. I got here as soon as possible to let you know, but I had to do what I could to avoid their notice."  
"We need to send word to Denerim", Lana and Alistair said at the same time, they shared a brief wry smile at that. Lana continued, "How quickly can we get enough troops to do something for the city? If we go at the pace we did to get here, there won't be anything left by the time we get there."  
Tugging at his beard thoughtfully, Eamon said thoughtfully, "With a forced march…two-three days."  
Alistair asked tightly, "And no way of getting word to them before that so they can start evacuating?"  
The Arl shook his head in regret, but Lana tapped her lips thoughtfully, "If we had a mage who could ride, and the right combination of spells, there might be a way."  
Wynne spoke up, "I'm sure you're thinking of a haste spell, but what else did you have in mind?"  
"That one that you use to renew our energy during extended battles."  
The older woman's eyes brightened in understanding, "Oh, yes, I see what you have in mind. And no, I won't do it, these old bones aren't up to that kind of journey. I'll see if I can find someone with the skills you're looking for."  
"Thank you, Wynne. I'm glad what I wanted isn't too impossible."  
With a smile Wynne patted Lana's shoulder, "You have a very mind, dear. I can only imagine what you picked up in the Tower without anyone realized. Or anywhere else, really." Lana flushed slightly causing everyone to smile slightly, it was rare to see the young woman show her embarrassment. With another pat, Wynne walked off muttering, "Now to find someone who can ride…"  
Riordan sighed, "If that is all for now, I need to speak with Marlana and Alistair regarding Warden matters…"  
"Yes," Eamon said slowly, "we can make the arrangements from here. I'll have someone show you to your rooms."  
In silence the Ferelden Wardens followed Riordan to his room, after the other two had been shown theirs and made sure their companions were settled in. If the older Warden was confused by Lana checking to make sure no one was close enough to listen, he didn't give any sign. Once the door was closed, Alistair asked, "So this is where you'll finally tell us how to kill the archdemon?"  
Lana added, "And that you found what was needed to make more Wardens."  
Surprise and horror could be seen in Riordan's craggy face as he answered Alistair first, "So you truly don't know? I thought after what Marlana said in the Landsmeet that you knew."  
Lana shook her head, "It was a pure bluff, Riordan. I deliberately left it vague as something only Grey Wardens could do since I figured no one would come up with something as risky as the Joining simply to provide immunity to the Taint." Her eyes narrowed, "But you haven't answered my question."  
Wearily, Riordan sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for the other two to take the chairs, Alistair sat, but Lana was too restless to do so, instead opting to lean against the wall. Riordan was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts, "No, Marlana, I did not find the supplies. I had hoped that Loghain had found the supply when he raided the compound at the palace, so that was partly why I wanted you to recruit him. It wasn't amongst his effects either."  
She nodded her understanding.  
Riordan sighed, "As for the Archdemon. It is true that it must be a Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon, because when the dragon dies, its soul will go on to the nearest Tainted being. Since a darkspawn is an empty soulless vessel, the dragon will be reborn. But since a man has a soul when the Archdemon's spirit goes to enter the Warden…"  
Faintly Alistair said, "So whoever kills the Archdemon also dies?"  
"Yes, both souls are destroyed in the process."  
Lana was silent as the two men spoke, feeling sick and cold. Not the welcome cold of rage, but the soul-crushing cold of despair and dread. She didn't let on to the horrible numbness that was taking over her as she said firmly, "Then when the time comes, mine will be the hand that strikes the killing blow."  
"Lass, you're young yet, there is no need for you to sacrifice yourself. My Calling isn't too far off, it's best that I be the one to do it."  
Hot on the heels of Riordan's protest was Alistair's own, "What? How can you possibly say that, Lana?"  
She stared at both men with intense sapphire eyes, the horror and despair transformed into a firm resolve. Hadn't she been facing oblivion all this time? While she no longer sought it, in fact would prefer to live to spend what remained of her life with Alistair, she'd somehow known this would be her ending. "No, when the Blight is over, Ferelden will need its king. We spent too much time watching the country tear itself apart after Cailan's death to allow another civil war so soon, since we don't know if Anora is still alive." She sucked in a depth breath and let it out slowly, "And they will need a senior Warden to help recover from the Blight."  
Too shocked to say anything, both men stared at her, unable to look at Alistair, because to do so would undo that resolve, Lana softly said, "I'll bid you both good night, we have an early start and a hard journey ahead of us."  
Ignoring the sudden protests, she slipped out the door and vanished into the shadows to silently make her way to the room she'd been assigned. She didn't bother with her usual habit of cleaning up after a fight, or even changing out of her armor, instead she curled up in front of the fireplace, trying to warm up as silent tears poured down her cheeks. Lana promised that once she had better control over herself, she would spend the final night she had with Alistair to give him a proper goodbye. She knew there'd be no time for such things during the march to Denerim.  
As much as she wanted to, Marlana couldn't regret the loving relationship she had with Alistair, he'd made all the pain and sacrifice mean something. He had made life worth living. And now…now it made dying that much harder, but her sacrifice wouldn't be in vain if it meant he lived.  
There was a soft knock on the door, she sat up and hastily brushed away her tears. She could sense the Tainted presences of Alistair and Riordan off in two different directions, so Lana knew it wasn't them. She called out, "Yes, who is it?"  
"'Tis Morrigan, we need to speak."  
Still scrubbing at her face to hide the tears, Lana got up to answer the door. The raven haired sorceress regarded her friend with somber and worried topaz eyes, Lana blinked up at her, "What's wrong, Morrigan?"  
"As I said, we need to speak, but not here. Somewhere that is more private where there are no prying ears and no chance of being interrupted."  
Wondering what further bad news had arrived, Lana nodded, "I'm sure you have something in mind. Lead on."  
Morrigan nodded, turned and walked away, Lana following in silence, not sure if she had the strength to solve yet another problem. After some skulking on their part, they arrived at a clearly disused wing of the castle and they slipped into a room that Morrigan had already made use of. Wearily, Lana sat down in a dusty chair, "Forgive me, but I hope it's not another issue with your mother."  
"It's indirectly related to her, but no, my dear, sweet mother hasn't made her re-appearance yet. No, this is something I found in her between the two grimoires, the real reason she sent me with you and Alistair."  
That Morrigan said Alistair's name without a hidden sneer or one of her less flattering nicknames for him made Lana's brows arch up in surprise. "And what was it that you found out?"  
"Your way out of dying when you slay the Archdemon."  
Lana was incredibly glad to be sitting rather than sitting. As it was she felt like she was going to fall out of her seat. "Say again?"  
Morrigan began to pace, "I know what happens to a Grey Warden when they kill an Archdemon. And so I offer you the loop in the hole, the way out that no Warden need die."  
It sounded too good to be true, "What's the catch?"  
Surprisingly, Morrigan looked uncomfortable, "There is a…ritual. The fools in the Circle would call it blood magic simply because it is not the type of magic they teach or is approved by your idiotic Chantry."  
Pinching the bridge her nose, Lana tightly said, "Details, Morrigan. Believe me, I know how you feel about the way the Chantry does things. But you're not saying what actually needs to be done in this ritual of yours. How many others need to die so that a Warden doesn't?"  
"Not all rituals involve death, Lana. This one doesn't. In fact a life is created…"  
Cool sapphire eyes regarded Morrigan, making the mage shift uncomfortably again. "Very well, the details. There is a way to make a child with just enough Taint so that when the archdemon dies, its soul will be drawn to the child like a beacon, rather than the Warden who slays the dragon. The spirit will be cleansed of any Taint, so that the archdemon is no longer, but that which once was will be given a new chance. And the Warden who strikes the killing blow will live."  
"And what about the soul of the child?"  
"The child, if you want to call it such, is an empty, soulless vessel, it is meant to hold the cleansed essence of the old god that once was."  
Lana recoiled at that description that eerily echoed Riordan's words from earlier, "Are you insane, Morrigan? Why would you make a darkspawn?"  
Clearly insulted, Morrigan snarled, "It won't be a darkspawn. The flesh is human, untainted. This will be the old god's chance at redemption and…"  
"And what?" Lana asked as the other woman trailed off.  
"And I won't lose my friend and my chosen sister."  
Stunned and knowing how much that must have cost Morrigan to admit, Lana was silent as she considered all that she'd been told. Finally she forced herself to ask, "And just how is this child made with enough taint without it being harmed or re-corrupting the soul?"  
Morrigan hesitated, "The Orlesian Wardens…they aren't coming are they?"  
Not liking where that question was heading, Lana shrugged, "No one knows, there hasn't been any word from them, but depending on where they were stationed, word may not have reached them yet."  
Bright topaz eyes closed for a moment, Lana didn't like the fact that her friend had to gather courage to say what she had to next. "Then Alistair needs to lay with me to make the child. One of the…parents has to be Tainted. Riordan's Taint is too strong, Alistair's is almost too much as well, but…"  
Lana could feel all the blood draining out of her head, so she leaned down, bracing her head in her hands with her elbows braced on her legs. Weakly she spoke, "Despite what you say, Morrigan, there is proof that the Maker exists."  
Morrigan frowned at her, not understanding Lana's comment. Still feeling faint, Lana didn't move as she said, "Only a god with a sick sense of humor would come up with this situation. Where the woman that loves him and will marry him probably won't be able to give Alistair a child. Yet the woman that despises him and he returns that feeling will be the one to have that child…"  
Nodding her understanding, Morrigan quietly said, "There is one last thing."  
Of course there had to be more catches, "Yes?"  
"That after the archdemon is slain and the Blight ended, I will leave Ferelden never to return. But neither you nor Alistair may pursue me or send anyone after me."  
She scrubbed her face and sat up. "All right, I can agree to that, but I can't speak for Alistair."  
"…So are you or not going to agree to the ritual?"  
Lana quirked an eyebrow up, "I thought I just said I did? Aren't you going to go ask him now?"  
"Ah…well, as you said, he does despise me. I thought you would talk him into it."  
Sapphire eyes hardened, "We both know Alistair would say yes just because I asked, but I know over time he'll feel that he was pressured into it because of me being the one to ask. He'd come to resent it after a time. Since this is Alistair's choice, you need to present it to him and ask him."  
"Marlana, he isn't going to give me a chance to explain."  
The slowly unraveling braid finally fell apart as Lana nodded brusquely, then irritatedly pushed her hair out of her face, "He will."  
At Morrigan's incredulous expression, Lana pulled out some writing implements from a pouch, something she'd taken to carrying so she could scrawl out orders to her commanders as the need arose. Instead of using the red wax and griffin seal of the Wardens, she used the blue wax with her Cousland signet ring, hoping Alistair would understand this was Lana asking, not Marlana as defacto Warden-Commander making an order. She thrust the note into Morrigan's hands, "This should at least get him to hear you out. I will abide whatever decision he makes."  
Morrigan scowled, "I didn't think you had a death wish. Leaving this in Alistair's hands? You know he won't agree."  
Lana felt a strange sort of serenity fall upon her, as it did she realized she truly was resigned to either fate. "Actually, we don't. There's more to Alistair than you ever wanted to give him credit for, Morrigan."  
Still scowling, Morrigan started to leave without saying anything else. Quietly, Lana called out to her, "Morrigan, there is one thing that I would ask of you."  
The mage stopped and looked at her in the doorway at the comment.  
"I know you feel that love makes a person weak, but can you promise that the child will be cared for?"  
"That's ridiculous, you know I would make sure the child is taken care of and educated."  
Lana sighed, "No, I mean care for the child. Emotionally."  
"I…cannot make a promise like that. But…I can try."  
A nod of understanding, Lana knew that for her friend, that was the most she could do. But Lana wanted Alistair's child to have a better childhood than he did, "Thank you, Morrigan, that's all I can ask."  
Then the mage was gone.  
For a time, Lana sat in that empty room, thinking over everything and to give Morrigan time to talk to Alistair. Finally she slowly got to her feet, went to her too empty room (at the time seeing that Eamon had given them separate rooms had irritated her in its pettiness, but now was grateful for the fact), to clean up and change out of her armor.  
Marlana then began her usual evening walk to check first on her friends, then her troops.  
Alistair was pacing back and forth in his room, frantic at being unable to locate Lana. None of their companions had seen her, the last time anyone had seen her were Riordan and he. And Riordan didn't know where she was either. Neither of the men could sense her presence, but neither had her unusually good range, despite how long Riordan had been a Warden. Alistair knew that Lana's sensitivity was due to the concoction Avernus had talked her into, but he didn't want to tell Riordan about that.  
The part that bothered him most is that no one had seen Morrigan either.  
While Lana might kick his ass if she'd known about it, he couldn't help but wonder if the apostate was finally showing her true colors and did something awful to Lana.  
So as he paced, feeling increasingly sick with worry, the conversation the three Wardens had in his head kept replaying in his mind. He wasn't surprised that Lana offered to sacrifice herself instead of the letting the others do so, despite what Riordan said about his Calling. Alistair could believe it, after feeling how strong the Taint was in the senior Warden.  
When the knock came on the door, he flung it open without asking who it was, hoping that there was word about his missing love. Seeing Morrigan in the doorway was an unexpected and unpleasant surprise. His intense dislike for the witch reared its ugly head, "What do you want? And more importantly, what have you done with Marlana?"  
While her yellow eyes glittered with anger, the response he got wasn't expected. "We merely talked, she and I. Which you and I need to do now."  
"Really," the sarcasm dripped heavily in that one word, "What could we possibly talk about?"  
One sharp nail jabbed into his chest causing him to step back, giving the witch enough space to enter the room and close the door behind her. "I didn't think you wanted anyone to hear your precious Warden secrets."  
Alistair stepped back further so she wasn't in his personal space anymore, his jaw was clenched as he spoke, "And what about them? Been eavesdropping again?"  
"No. I have been reading Flemeth's grimoires."  
He crossed his arms against his chest, "This should be good."  
"Before I go any farther, you need to read this." A piece of parchment was shoved into his face. He scowled at her before taking it, and felt the breath hitch in his chest when he saw that it was sealed in blue wax with the Cousland crest. Ignoring Morrigan's sneer at his pained expression, Alistair opened the parchment to see a brief note written in Lana's elegant hand.  
Alistair,  
Please listen to Morrigan with an open mind.  
Lana  
Frowning he looked up at the sorceress, "So what do you have to say that Marlana has to send a note rather than be here herself?"  
"Because for some unfathomable reason she feels this is a decision that you need to make for yourself."  
"And that would be?"  
"As I told Lana, I have a way out, that no Warden need die when slaying the archdemon."  
"It has to be something particularly gruesome if the Wardens of the past haven't used it. What do we have to do? Sacrifice babies and virgins?"  
Morrigan's expression tightened, "No, a child has to be created with just enough tainted blood to act as a vessel for the soul of the god that once was."  
He desperately wanted to sit down, but didn't want to give Morrigan the satisfaction of seeing him in a moment of weakness. He knew he wasn't going to like what she was going to say, but was going to listen to anyway. If there was a way to keep his love from sacrificing herself… Because he knew she'd find a way to fulfill the promise she made. "I think it'd be best if you start at the beginning and explain to me what you have in mind."  
She studied him for a long moment in silence, for once it wasn't mocking, but thoughtful. In a surprisingly soft voice, she began to lay out the details. How a child could be conceived with enough tainted blood through a ritual. And that the child could be used to hold the soul of the old god when the archdemon was slain by a Grey Warden instead of the Warden dying with the dragon. She finished, "For the child to have that taint, requires a Warden parent. Riordan's Taint is too strong, and since don't know when the Orlesian Wardens are going to arrive…"  
"WHAT? Are you out of your frigging mind? I'm not sure which I'd rather do, die from the archdemon or sleep with you?" Facing the horrific prospect of sex with Morrigan made the not-quite-templar completely forget about Lana's promise.  
Morrigan grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled his face down so she could glare into his eyes, "You arrogant fool! Do you truly believe that Marlana would allow you to sacrifice yourself? After she refused to take you to free Anora from Howe? You and I both know that she'd just knock you out again. Probably here in Redcliffe where you'd be safe until everything is over. We both know that no one else would stop her since you're now their precious king. If anything she'd have even greater approval."  
She let go and shoved him back as he started to shake his head, "And if somehow Marlana was convinced to let you kill it, do you want to think about what your death would do to her?"  
"What do you mean?" He asked in a tight voice.  
"'What do I mean?' the fool asks", Morrigan said mockingly, "I still do not understand what she sees in you, but even I know that your death would be her ending."  
"She's not the type to commit suicide."  
Surprisingly Morrigan's shoulders slumped and for the briefest moment looked…sad, "Even after Haven? No, you are right. She would not knowingly kill herself. But if you died in a way she could prevent… You and I both know that she'd slowly carve away her own soul in recrimination. That by the time she did die, it would be an empty shell that died, since the woman we both care about would have died a long time before."  
She straightened and glared at him again, "And yes, I do care about her. She is the first person I could ever consider as a friend and is my chosen sister. While I want to redeem the soul of the god that once was, I want my friend to live. Moreover that she be happy." Her pretty features twisted in disgust, "Sadly for her to be happy, you must live. Otherwise I would have paralyzed her so that she'd be safe and you'd get to do your noble sacrifice. Is it that much to ask that you sacrifice some time and seed so that she might live her life with you?"  
He listened to her diatribe in silence with hard eyes and an expressionless face. "And then when the child is of age you use him against us for the throne?"  
The sorceress recoiled as if struck and looked ready to flay him alive, "Fool", she hissed. "I have no desire for such things. As I said before, I wish to redeem the soul of an ancient being and my friend to live. As I promised Lana, so I will promise you this. When the battle is over, I will leave Ferelden never to be seen again. And in return neither you nor Marlana shall follow me and I shall be allowed to raise the child."  
"And what about the soul of the unborn child?"  
For the first time since that horribly awkward conversation started, Morrigan looked shocked at Alistair's question. Just a very small hint of respected colored her tone, "Odd that you should ask the same question she did. As I told her, the child, if you wish to call it that, is soulless. It is an empty soulless vessel awaiting the spirit of the archdemon."  
It was possibly one of the most revolting things he'd been ever asked to do, but. But he could see all too easily in his mind's eye. Marlana's devastation at his death if he managed to keep her from making the killing blow, how after time the woman he loved would be dead, leaving only ashes of that fiery spirit that he had fallen for. And knew that while he might have the strength to go on without her, he knew that whoever did end up his queen afterwards would always be compared and found lacking. And that a large part of his heart and soul would die with Lana.  
And if Riordan was right, and the Warden's spirit was obliterated with the archdemon's… No, he couldn't bear the thought that when the Calling came and with it his end, that she wouldn't be there waiting for him…  
Or worse. When her Calling came, one that she would embrace gladly, and he wasn't there for her, and faced with the spirits of all her other dead, the ones she believed held nothing but accusations for her…  
"All right, what do I need to do?"  
Afterwards he left the room, not looking back to see what Morrigan was up to, he sought out the bathing chamber, rather than have a bath brought up to his room. Fortunately it was late enough that no one else was using it. He drew the hottest bath he could, then sat and scrubbed. How long he did that, he didn't know, but by the time he was done, his skin was reddened and more than a little sore. At least he didn't smell Morrigan anymore and whatever she'd given him to be able to…perform had finally left his system. Then after scrubbing at his mouth with brush and cleaning powder, he didn't taste her anymore either.  
But he still felt soiled. And as tempted as he was to avoid her, Alistair went seeking out Marlana, hoping that she could forgive what he did to keep them both alive. For all their lives were going to be much shorter than they should be, he wanted that chance to spend what time they had together.  
He tried not to think about the fact that thanks to the Taint, his love would never live to see her fiftieth year.  
Marlana was sitting on the battlements that he had found her at once before, so long ago when they returned from Haven with the Ashes that had exacted such an emotional price from her. In the time since, Alistair had come to believe that maybe the man she paid that price for wasn't worth it. But that was neither the time nor the place for that thought.  
As before, she held something that glittered in her hands. Instead of the amulet that the spirit in the guise of her father had given her, she held the engagement ring that Alistair had gotten in Orzammar in what seemed to be another life. Her long silver hair was unbound and was toyed with by the cool evening breeze off the lake. Lana didn't turn around as she slid the ring back onto her hand and softly said, "Alistair."  
Slowly, carefully, he approached her, hoping to talk with her about the dark bargain they'd made. When the gust of wind brought her scent to him, need surged through him as whatever Morrigan had dosed him with before proved to still flowing in his blood. Trying to keep from giving into his basest instincts, Alistair walked over to Lana, wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck. Some part of his mind was grateful that she was sitting on a parapet so that he didn't have to hunch over to hug her. Lana didn't say anything as she shifted so that she was facing him and hugged him close.  
That was all the encouragement he needed to lift his head up and kiss her deeply, one hand sliding up her back to tangle his fingers in her hair, the other sliding down to her waist to pull her closer. Lana obliged by wrapping her legs around his waist as her hands tightened on his back. Growling softly, he ground against her, the taste of her, the scent of her…the heat all drove any thoughts of talking out of his mind for the moment. He lifted his mouth from hers, and breathing deeply started to kiss his way down her throat.  
Panting, she said hoarsely, "Alistair…I don't think…this is the best place."  
When he didn't respond except to kiss the pulse throbbing at the juncture of neck and shoulder, she lightly jabbed him in the ribs. Frowning, he lifted his head up to look at her with glazed eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with desire, but she still had some self-control in place. "Not here. My room. Closest."  
Closing his eyes, Alistair managed to remember some shreds of his discipline, reopening them, he simply grunted his agreement, then swooped Lana up in his arms to carry her off. Normally they were more circumspect about such activities, but at that moment with whatever that brew that Morrigan gave him, that was still pumping in his veins, he didn't care who saw them.  
For that matter, Lana didn't care either. As sometimes happened when they were in physical contact, what one felt, the other picked up on. In more rational times, neither could figure out if the bond between them was due to the Taint, or just an unusually deep emotional bond. But this wasn't a rational time, flames of lust and desire were sweeping through them both, all they cared about was getting to their destination with a minimum amount of interference.  
Somehow they got to the room without anyone interrupting them. Between the two of them, they got the door open, and Alistair kicked it closed. As he laid her down on the bed, he grumbled "Satisfied?"  
Blue eyes dancing with hunger and laughter, she dimpled up at him, "Hopefully soon."  
Laughter helped ease some of the tension, but not enough. This time though, she kissed him passionately, her lips deceptively soft, but her tongue sliding along his had demands. Demands that he happily answered. Clothes were shed frantically, with none of the usual playfulness, the burning need driving them on. But once bare and skin to skin, the terrible desire seemed to have eased somewhat.  
Only somewhat. It was still there, driving them on, so instead of indulging in their usual slow buildup, he kissed her fiercely then sheathed himself inside her. There was enough of Alistair's normal self to brace himself to keep from crushing her as fought together on a different sort of field of battle. A battlefield made of their bodies. Any of the love they normally shared when having sex was, not precisely gone, but not present either. It was if the potion that Alistair had been given was communicable to Marlana.  
After they could only call it a rut, like two animals driven by baser instincts.  
Finally, that compelling need was satisfied. With a groan, Alistair laid back in the bed, gently pulling Lana in close against him, pulling a blanket up over their now shivering forms as the sweat on their skins chilled. She settled down next to him, her head on his chest as she had so many times before. Feeling an odd stickiness on her fingertips, she lifted one hand up and saw to her horror that there was blood under the nails. Alistair's blood.  
Throat sore from screaming, not exactly in pleasure, but release, she spoke hoarsely, "Oh, Alistair. I'm sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you too badly."  
He blinked and said drowsily as the events of the day finally caught up to him, "Hurt me? I don't know what…" He stopped and looked at her hand, "Oh. That. I'm fine, it's not the first time you've scratched me. We'll take care of it in the morning."  
She frowned against his chest, and he lightly ran a hand along her back, causing a faint gasp of pain, which woke him up. "Lana, forget about me, are you okay?"  
"I'm fine. It's nothing."  
Golden brown eyes narrowed at her, "Uh huh. I'll make a deal with you, if I let you look at my back, you'll let me make sure I didn't hurt you."  
Lana squirmed uncomfortably as he expected when she didn't want him to fuss over something, but when he didn't let her go, she nodded her assent. Since he wasn't going to let her wriggle out of seeing the damage he caused, he looked at her back first. And tried to keep from feeling sick at what he saw. There were dark bruises all along her back and sides that were clearly defined handprints. His hands. Fortunately, one of the smaller vials of healing brew they had on hand took care of the worst of the pain.  
It was Lana's turn to take care of Alistair, she was horrified to see not just the small crescents where her nails had dug in, but long scratches as well. And on the back of one shoulder was a bite mark from her. She didn't even remember doing that. He smirked at her reaction, "Those are battlescars I'll wear proudly. And hey, don't hit me, I bruise easily, remember?"  
She snorted at his comment, gently cleaned out the wounds then slathered them with healing salve. Once they were both satisfied that the other wasn't going to have any lasting damage from the rut they'd just gone through, they went back to bed.  
Tucked up against him, head back on his chest, feeling one arm wrapped around her protectively and possessively, Lana sighed, "I love you. You know that, right?"  
He lightly kissed her hair, "Just as I love you."  
Something in her relaxed finally, "This is probably the worst time to ask, but I guess this was our reaction to Morrigan's offer?"  
"Maker only knows." He frowned a little, but not at her, "I think… Well, in order to get me to, well, perform… She gave me some sort of brew. I, um, I think that were some side effects she neglected to mention."  
"I'm sorry, Alistair. If could have done it myself, I would… And I couldn't make the decision for you, if I could –"  
He lightly laid his fingers on her lips, "Shhh. None of that now. I did what I had to out of my own free will. So that we can have our life. I just hope that…" He trailed off, not sure how to call it.  
"The child? I know, I don't know what to hope for there. At least that it isn't a darkspawn or that it doesn't attract them, I guess." Unspoken was her worries about not being able to give him a child of their union.  
"No, not that. Of course I'll worry about that one. Just that I hope that Andraste will grant us her blessing for all that we've had to do."  
"We'll figure something out, we always do, right?" Though she tried to sound strong, at that moment her heart wasn't in it.  
He tilted her face up to him, not hiding his fears and worries, but not hiding the love he felt for her either. "I'll make a bargain with you."  
A pale brow went up questioningly. Alistair smiled, "Don't ever give up, my love, and I promise to do the same."  
She sealed that bargain with a kiss.


	36. Waiting For The End

Denerim burned.  
Clouds of thick, oily, noxious smoke could be seen against a sky turned a sickly, blood red long before the city itself was visible.  
Before there was even a hint of smoke, the three Wardens had felt the overwhelming presence of darkspawn. Interlaced with the throbbing ache of the "normal" darkspawn was the terrible, yet slightly seductive, call of the archdemon.  
There'd been no sign of refugees as the army traveled as swiftly as possible to the capital. When scouts found the mutilated remains of the messengers sent ahead, it became clear why there had been a lack of people on the roads. With the archdemon amongst the Horde, the normally mindless darkspawn were capable of advancing upon a city and cutting it off before its citizens were able to flee the onslaught.  
Standing on a hill as their troops went from a semi-organized mob into their ranks, Alistair and Marlana quietly discussed the situation as they surveyed the scene. It was incredibly hard to hide dismay at the distant smoke, or the dark, boiling clouds against the baleful red sky. Oghren came stomping up to them, muttering about the person with the shortest legs being the one forced to do all the sodding walking.  
Lana asked quietly, "What's wrong, Oghren?"  
"Kids're getting restless. One of ya are gonna need to talk to them." She looked over at Alistair expectantly. He stared back at her, "What? Andraste's ass, you're expecting me to give a speech?"  
She carefully shifted her gaze away from him towards the shifting bodies below, and didn't say anything, but she didn't need to.  
He grumbled, "Blast. I get it, I get it. It's all part of being the King thing."  
Glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye, she deadpanned, "Could be worse."  
"I don't see how."  
It took a bit of effort to keep from grinning, "Well, we could find you a pretty dress to dance the Remigold."  
She dimpled as he roared with laughter, Oghren shook his head and stomped back off muttering, "Sodding surfacer freaks."  
The laughter faded as the burning city drew their attention back to it. In the distance they could see the occasional flash of odd violet flame and realized it was from the archdemon. Somber, the King sent word to have the troops gather near a dilapidated building that had some sort of wooden platform in front of it. Lana eyed it warily, then eyed Alistair in his stupidly (in her opinion) heavy armor and hoped the wood wasn't as rotted as it seemed.  
In another situation it would have been hilarious if Alistair fell through the structure. But at this moment it would be devastating for morale, especially his.  
Unaware that she'd been holding her breath, Lana let it out in relief when he got up there and didn't fall through. When he gestured for her to join him, she looked blankly at Alistair, causing the "imperial eyebrow" that he was too good at. Mentally sighing, but keeping her exasperation from showing, she carefully stepped up to the platform. If she fell through because of him, she was going to be…unhappy.  
Fortunately for all involved, it held. Though it did creak alarmingly whenever Alistair did so much as shift his weight. He stood in silence, a fierce look in his golden brown eyes as the forces gazed upon the newly made King.  
"Before us stands the might of the Darkspawn Horde." He flung out his hand in the direction of Denerim in perfect timing for the archdemon to fly over the city before disappearing back into the haze of smoke.  
"But fear them not!" Now he gestured to Marlana, she stood at attention with hands behind her back and gave a solemn nod as the gazes of thousands of people shifted in her direction. All annoyance with Alistair was forgotten, she'd always hated being the center of attention, it was one thing to be directing so many in battle. Quite another to be standing there to rally the confidence of so many people to face the nightmare that she had been dealing with for the past year.  
"Beside me stands Marlana Cousland, who is proof of what we can survive for she has survived what many had said would be impossible."  
Listening to Alistair's "impromptu" speech of putting her up on a pedestal then using that as a comparison to Ferelden made Lana silently grind her teeth, she couldn't believe he was making her out to be a sodding hero. He knew how she felt about being called that. Maker's breath, she thought, I'm going to kill him. No, that would be too easy. No, I'm going to find a dress that will fit him and make him dance the Remigold for me.  
Finally the speech wound down to cheers from the troops. As they headed down the rickety ramp of the platform she muttered at him, "You're going to pay for that."  
He smirked, "I look forward to whatever you have in mind."  
"You wouldn't say that if you really knew what it was."  
The infuriating smirk only broadened into a challenging grin, "Try me."  
A wicked light filled her eyes and the grin she gave him in return, "Pretty dress. Remigold."  
Alistair leaned down to whisper in her ear, the light brush of his lips and the scruff on his chin made her shiver pleasantly. His voice was full of a purring promise, "Only for yourpleasure."  
Before she could reply, Alistair gave her a wicked grin of his own, heating up already warm brown eyes, then he strode away. Shaking her head at their tendency to have any conversation or situation go in that direction, she rejoined the streams of humans, elves and dwarves to the city.  
It was a scene out of a Warden's nightmare. Darkspawn attacking, and worse, the guards against the twisted backdrop of a once thriving city. A vast, wordless cry of challenge roared from thousands of throats as the army crashed into the vanguard of the Horde. Lana found herself swept up in the flood and away from her companions, including Alistair. At first she scythed through any darkspawn nearby, but for the first time keenly felt her lack of height. With so many bodies that much taller than she, Marlana found her view of the battlefield to be horrifically blocked.  
Worst of all, with so many darkspawn about, her normally keen sense for knowing where the monsters were was useless to tell her if one was coming up on her or not.  
Spying a pile of debris that had a decent height, Lana clambered up on it. She had a much better view than expected, realizing that it might not be possible to get messengers, the Warden sheathed her blades, drew her bow and readied the small number of fire arrows in her possession. Leliana was a far superior archer, but over the past year, the former Chantry sister and bard had worked on the young woman's archery skills. However in this case she was going to use the bow to send fire arrows where she wanted troops to go.  
Over the din of battle, Marlana proved to everyone just how loudly she could yell (the result of yet another of Leliana's lessons. Though she supposed that wasn't what the bard had in mind when teaching her how to more effectively project her voice), as she sent fiery projectiles to direct her forces where they were needed.  
After what seemed like days, but probably only hours, they won control over the gates of the city. With sun and sky obscured by the horrible, blood like pall, it was difficult to tell just how much time had really gone by. Seeing that her commanders had matters in hand, Lana sank down on her perch to take slow sips of water to ease her dry and aching throat.  
Not surprisingly, Alistair was the one to seek her out. His handsome face drawn tight from the long battle and the strain of dealing with so many darkspawn in the vicinity, he offered his hand to her, "Want help getting down?"  
Gratefully she accepted his assistance, once down she leaned against him, not caring about the gore on his armor. It didn't take long for the rest of their companions to gather, as they did so there was an amiable squabble between Oghren, Zev and Leli about who killed more darkspawn. A cool, gentle touch of Wynne's magic helped revive them all and eased Lana's sore throat. Rubbing her forehead, Lana stored sightlessly out over the ravaged cityscape, her head pounding with the amount of darkspawn gathered in the area. Slowly, as she gathered her thoughts, "We'll need to decide who Alistair and I will take in to the city."  
There were frowns about that, but it was Leliana spoke, "Is that wise to risk both of you? Especially Alistair, considering his new position?"  
Riordan answered as he approached, weariness etching long lines in his face, "As Marlana said in the Landsmeet, only a Warden can kill the archdemon. All three of us must go in to be assured that a Warden is the one who gets the killing blow."  
Lana had only told her suspicions about Riordan to Alistair, none of the other companions. However after the Landsmeet, many of the others had developed their own. Wanting to recruit the man that had caused so much personal grief, if not to them, but to people they cared for, could make someone wonder. Even more suspicious after Riordan had been imprisoned for weeks by an ally of said enemy, one that had caused just as much grief.  
Those thoughts could be seen on the faces of those closest to Lana as they stared hard at the Senior Warden of Jader.  
Displaying an unexpected insight, Riordan took in those suspicious glances and bowed his head in acknowledgement, but didn't directly address the wariness. "If I may, Marlana, I would suggest a small squad of no more than three or four people, including Alistair. The fewer in your band, the more likely it is that you will be able to evade notice."  
The silver-white braid whipped the air as Marlana's head snapped to the east, sapphire eyes narrowed as she felt something… Something that wasn't the archdemon, but far more than just the "normal" darkspawn. No, somethings. And they were getting closer.  
"You sense them too, lass? How odd." Riordan gave her a measuring look, "But there are two generals, darkspawn that are far more powerful than your average beast. There is one in the market district, the other is in-"  
"The Alienage", she whispered, Riordan nodded his agreement. He sighed, "It is not necessary to eng-"  
Lana held up a hand, "No, they will need to be dealt with, but what is your intention with regards to the rather ugly dragon flying over head?"  
"Lure it to the top of Fort Drakon."  
Despite herself, the young woman wrapped her arms around herself as she shuddered at the thought of going back into that Maker-forsaken place. Leliana gently rubbed the silver-haired woman's arm in sympathy as Alistair not so subtly stood so that if he needed to, he could shield her. The others looked grim, remembering the severe injuries she had when they got her out of the Fort.  
None of them, not even Alistair, had yet to learn what truly happened there.  
If the Maker was kind, they never would.  
Marlana shook herself, much like Oogie shook himself when trying to shed his short, dense coat of fur free of water. This wasn't the time or place to allow herself to be trapped by such memories. "All right, we'll go to the Fort..." She frowned thoughtfully as she recalled some of the long ago lessons about Denerim defending itself from invasion by river or sea, "The top of the Tower…it has ballistae, doesn't it?"  
Forgetting that those she'd gathered wouldn't know about that, she huffed slightly at their questioning looks. Yet it was Alistair who commented with a sharp nod of understanding at her, "Right, need something to bring the sodding big, tainted dragon down. Because of the whole flying thing and last time I checked, not even Morrigan could become a large enough flying thingy to bring an archdemon down out of the air."  
His comment earned him a nasty look, but there was a touch of grudging respect in the glare. Alistair continued blithely on, "And somehow I think it would just laugh at regular sized arrows, even magic ones."  
"Pity there's no way to have long and heavy enough chains to pin the thing down", Lana mused.  
The oldest Warden nodded, "We'll make do with what we have as Wardens always have, lass. An ability that you've admirably have proven to possess. So who will go into the city with you?"  
"I'm having Sten and Oghren remain with the troops, since they've been doing most of the commanding." Both looked like they were about to argue the point, but she shook her head and they subsided. "Shale, I want you to remain here to assist them."  
The golem looked like she was ready to argue, but seemed to reconsider as she nodded her agreement.  
Riordan shifted, "You haven't mentioned who you're taking with you."  
Lana gave him a cool look, one that had made far sterner people quail. He sighed, "Very well, I'll go get things prepared for the tower then. It is best that we travel in separate groups so as to not attract too much attention. We will meet again at the top of the Fort."  
"Maker watch over you, Riordan."  
A faint smile flickered across his features, "And you as well, Marlana." Then the Warden was gone.  
She turned to where her companions were still gathered and knew that this might be the last time she saw any of them again. And in one case, no matter how the battle went, there would be one that she would never see again.  
Trying not to get maudlin, she looked down at her suspiciously quiet hound. Oogie had guarded his human while she was on the pile of rocks directing her forces, but since then had been trying to do his level best to not be noticed. Lana knelt before the mabari and hugged him, "I want you to stay with Sten, Oogie."  
He whined sadly, not wanting to be separated again. Burying her face into the thick neck so no one could see the tears glimmering in her eyes, she quietly said, "I want you to stay safe. You're all I have left of home."  
Another whine was accompanied by a swipe of his tongue along her ear, but she knew the dog understood, though it broke both of their hearts. She rubbed his ears before getting back to her feet, "Be good, I'll see you again once the dragon is dead."  
Oogie looked up at her, sorrow and fear in his dark brown eyes, the bark of agreement wasn't as confident as it normally would be. The normally exuberant hound reluctantly walked over to Sten who lightly placed a hand on the dog's head. The Qunari regarded Lana thoughtfully. Yet he sounded pleased as he spoke "Are you ready? For we have reached the battlefield at last."  
Her voice was soft as she replied, 'Yes, this is it. Odd, I never thought we'd live to see it."  
Sten sounded somewhat bemused as his gaze shifted from the woman who had seemed so child-like to him at first, yet had proven her worth as a warrior again and again. "The arishok asked, 'What is the Blight?' I stand here looking into its eyes, and still have no answer for him. But perhaps you do."  
Sten's gaze dropped back down to Lana, and spoke firmly, "You have carried us this far. Do not doubt that. The tales my people have heard of the Grey Wardens have not done them justice." He nodded towards Alistair, "Including him." He dipped his head slightly in Marlana's direction before striding off to find his sub-commanders as both Wardens gaped at him.  
Oogie cast one final look at his human, pleading with everything that was in him to remain by her side. She shook her head firmly, sorrow making her eyes dark. He ducked down his head as he turned away.  
"So. This is it", Oghren growled. Lana turned away from the dejected mabari, trying not to second guess herself and call him back to her, so in a way she was grateful for the dwarf at stepping up to say his farewell.  
She nodded, "It's been an honor to fight with you, my friend."  
That Marlana spoke the truth was evident and caused the rheumy green eyes to widen slightly. "Honor? Nobody's looked at me and seen honor in a long time, Marlana."  
He shifted slightly, uncomfortably but looked determined, "You took in a drunken disgrace of an Orzammar warrior. You gave me a reason to fight and the will to keep going."  
She flushed at that, remembering being the one to eviscerate Branka in front of him and the young woman always marveled at the fact he didn't hold it against her. Oghren gave her a sharp look as he continued as if he could guess what her thoughts were. He probably did, there were some things that she was predictable in, "You helped me find the one woman in the sodding world who might put up with me, and you helped me get past Branka so I could have someone new."  
"I owe you a lot, Marlana. I consider it a fine honor to die for you and your cause."  
Dark eyes went bright with that fierce will to live that had carried her, and the others as Sten pointed out, through so much. Her voice rang with that conviction, "We'll make it through this, Oghren."  
"We might, and we might not. I'm betting on 'not'." He shrugged at her frown. Then slammed his fist over his heart, "Let the stone turn red from the blood of heroes. Today I will be the warrior you reminded me that I am!"  
"Fight well, my friend. We'll toast to this day when all is done."  
He nodded sharply at her then cast a shrewd gaze at Alistair, "Hey, pike-twirler?"  
Alistair sighed, "Yes, Oghren?"  
"You take care of Lana, you hear? You let anything happen to her and I'll cut yer heart  
out."  
"I wouldn't have it any other way', the younger warrior said with a smile.  
Oghren stalked off bellowing for those he was put in charge off, as he did so, Shale made  
an uncomfortable sound, one that sounded like rocks grating against each other. Belatedly, Lana realized it was the golem equivalent of a throat being cleared. "So…the archdemon is next, is it?"  
Lana nodded, wondering what pithy remark Shale was going to use for a farewell. She knew what this was and that was why she gave each of her friends their moments. While that fierce will that would never let her give up, she was a practical woman and knew what war meant. That they all lived to see this battle…it was a miracle. She hoped she hadn't abused the good nature of whatever granted them that miracle to allow it to continue through this last fight.  
Oddly tentative, Shale continued, "Part of me is glad that It has decided to leave me here at the gate, but the other part is…apprehensive? I would almost say that I feel concern for something other than myself, even maybe for a soft, squishy companion… But that would be silly, wouldn't it?"  
A dimple flashed as Lana grinned up at her rocky friend, as the others tried to muffle their reactions to her playing along with the golem, "It's scandalous to even consider the notion."  
"I know!" The rumbling voice dropped into a stage whisper while she raised one hand to cup her mouth, "Please do not tell anyone. I doubt I could blush, but it would be so awkward."  
Shale fell silent for a moment, then those glowing eyes shifted away from Lana then back, "And… Do try not to get swallowed whole. If the beast were to fly about afterwards and poop it out, irony would dictate that it would land on me. I couldn't take it."  
After another hesitation, Shale finished, "Well, then. I suppose this is it? Have fun storming the castle!"  
With thundering steps the golem walked off in Oghren's path.  
Feeling a little piece of her heart going away with the others who were being left at the gates, Lana studied the others that were going into the abyss at her side not sure what to say. The confident expressions they held for her was both warming and humbling.  
Leliana was the first to speak, "So now we approach the end of our tale. It is strange, knowing that all will be decided in a few hours after coming so far. We stand on the precipice, before the greatest battle of our age… I wonder if the heroes of old ever felt like this."  
At the bard's words, the silver-white braid swished back and forth like a cat's tail as its owner shook her head slightly, her tone wry, "If they had any sense, they probably did."  
Crystalline eyes took on a fierce light of their own, "I am not afraid. We go to fight for a good cause. There is nowhere else I would rather be. You are a dear, dear friend. I will stand with you, to whatever end."  
She nodded so fiercely that she set the single braid in her hair swinging sharply back and forth. "This day, we will forge a legend of our own."  
Lana wasn't surprised when Leli pulled her into a hug and returned the embrace just as tightly, wishing she could be as fearless as her friend. But there was still that niggling worry that Morrigan's ritual hadn't worked… She ruthlessly quashed that down as she stepped back, she'd accepted her fate that night in Redcliffe. She still accepted it now, giving into worry and fear would do none of them good. And possibly a great deal of harm if those doubts crippled her at a bad time.  
A small smile lit her features, "Yes, Leli, today our names will live on long past our return to the Maker's side."  
Zevran was unusually serious as he took up Lana's gloved hands in his own. "My dear Warden, Lana, allow me to say that it has been a pleasure." He gave her a sly grin, "Assassinating you was the luckiest thing that could have happened to me."  
She laughed softly, "Ah my friend, you say that now. But we'll see what happens when we meet the archdemon."  
"Very true! I take that back." He laughed briefly, then sobered, "Yet, I strangely find myself glad to be charging into the dragon's lair at your side. So to speak. Come my friend, let us go and teach this dragon a lesson, yes? It should have stayed in whatever hole it crawled out of!"  
Lana squeezed his hands affectionately, "You've been a good friend, Zev. Especially for putting up with all of my requests for stories about Antiva."  
He gave her a toothy smile, "It has been a pleasure."  
Zev gently let her hands go, then stepped back as he gave her a courtly bow.  
Smiling warmly, Wynne took the vacant space, "I am glad to have known you, Marlana Cousland. And so very proud to call you my friend. You give these old bones hope for the future."  
Not able to say anything, Lana gently hugged the woman she had come to consider an adoptive grandmother.  
Wynne gently patted the silver-white braid before giving way to Morrigan. Sapphire eyes met topaz as the unlikely friends regarded one another. They were a study in contrasts, not just physically, yet they somehow found enough common ground between them.  
"This is how it should be", the raven haired sorceress said with an odd tone in her voice. It startled Lana to realize that there was regret in Morrigan's words. "We began this together you and I, along with your fool templar." There was none of the usual scorn when she mentioned Alistair, though she did look to be clenching her teeth slightly.  
Lana nodded, "It didn't seem right to keep you out of this last fight. Just…be careful in your…condition."  
Morrigan laughed outright, " You've always had such a way with words, my friend. But you know I am always careful."  
Ebony brows drew down in distress, "I'm afraid this is where we will have to say our final farewell as part of our bargain."  
Another nod, bright eyes darkening, "I do and I understand why. I'll miss you. Thank you, for everything."  
The gratitude flustered Morrigan as it always did ever since the first time Lana thanked her for bandaging her wounds in Flemeth's hut. The mage smiled a little, "Live well, my friend. I hope you have your happy ending, even if it is with Alistair."  
To give the two Wardens privacy, the others began heading to the breach in the gates where they would head into the city in their hunt for the Archdemon.  
It seemed as if everything stopped, leaving them in a small bubble of frozen time. He cupped her face with warm, calloused hands to gaze down at her with a fierce look of fear and worry mixed with everything he felt for her. Lana quickly removed her gloves and shoved them into her belt to place her hands over his for a moment. Then she stretched up to cup his face, her eyes brilliant with her own fear tempered with love.  
Neither could say who moved first, but they wrapped each other up to kiss, long, slow and deep. A desperate, almost final, kiss full of the promises they'd made to each other. Promises they intended to keep.  
Eventually they had to part, but before they went to hunt the archdemon, Alistair leaned his forehead against Lana's and murmured, "My rose."  
"The brighter half of my soul", she whispered.  
"I love you", they said in unison. Smilingly briefly, they reluctantly parted to pull on their gauntlets, then Lana placed Alistair's helmet on his head, one gloved finger gently trailing down his cheek as she did so.  
When they stepped back, it was clear the two had clearly shifted from young lovers to Grey Wardens ready for battle.  
Once they rejoined their companions, Marlana met each person's eyes, before saying in a carrying voice so that all nearby could hear, not just her friends, "The Blight ends today. In this place." That bright gaze shifted from those dearest to her to the gathered soldiers causing them all to straighten up a bit more as something of that indomitable spirit passed on to them.  
"As when our people fought for our freedom from Orlais over thirty years ago, so shall we fight, and win, against these foul beasts!"  
"The Grey Wardens motto has ever been: In war, victory. In death, sacrifice. In peace, vigilance. This is the day that we prove them right for in this war there will be victory!"  
"This day we prove to the world that Ferelden will never give in to any, be it man or monster, that tries to dominate us!"  
She cried out, "In War Victory! For Ferelden!"  
It started with just those nearby, but soon spread out in rippling waves of sound from thousands of voices, "Ferelden!"  
As the men, dwarves, and elves cried out their defiance against the dark, the small band plunged into the burning city to hunt a befouled, ancient god.


	37. Paying The Price

Unconsciously they fell into their accustomed places, Alistair to her right and slightly ahead so that he guard her with his shield if the need arose. Zevran to her left and slightly behind so that there wouldn't be a chance of their weapons tangling. Behind them followed Morrigan, Wynne and Leliana who could use their ranged abilities behind the protection of the melee fighters.  
When they emerged into the decimated market district of Denerim, it was a scene beyond even the worst darkspawn fueled nightmares for the two Wardens. Acrid smoke from burning buildings and other…material; burned eyes, noses and throats. In the background were the howls, shrieks and snorts of darkspawn interspersed with battlecries, screams of pain and fear of defenders of the city.  
Seeing the destruction of a city that had come to mean something was devastating. As the band made its way through the area, they gladly engaged any of the bands of darkspawn they found.  
At first it was easy enough, just small clumpings of hurlocks and genlocks, sometimes the occasional shriek. About halfway through the district they were charged by three ogres. Wynne paralyzed one with a well timed glyph while Morrigan froze the second. Lana nimbly jumped away from the hammer blow the third ogre aimed for her, before the beast could recover from over extending itself, she slammed a blade into its hand. Howling in pain, it didn't notice Zevran come up from behind until his blades were in its back.  
The massive darkspawn went down in a welter of blood as it was shredded from the front and behind.  
Seeing that the two had the mobile threat in hand, Alistair concentrated on the frozen beast, shattering it by hammering on it with sword and shield. The final ogre was butchered like a stuck pig under the combined might of the Wardens and their allies.  
When the final ogre went down, Alistair realized that they were just outside the demolished remains of Goldanna's house. In fact it was the very building that the monsters had just plowed through to get at the small warband. Lana gripped Alistair's arm when she saw his stricken expression and realized where they were. "I'm sorry, love, but there's nothing that can be done for her or the children right now. Let's hope they were able to get to a safe haven."  
He nodded reluctantly, his expression grim as he turned away to continue on.  
It wasn't too long after the ogres that they finally tracked down the general. Or the general tracked them down. A hurlock that was almost massive enough to be an ogre regarded them with too intelligent eyes deep within a misshapen helmet. Around him was a swarm of lesser genlocks and hurlocks. When Lana's gaze met the general's, something passed between them, something she couldn't put into words what it was. Just that something in the Taint that bound the Wardens to the darkspawn spurred her forward.  
Whatever that something was, it clearly drove the general as well since he focused on her to the exclusion of everything else. A feral, almost wild, light shone in Marlana's eyes as she ran towards the massive darkspawn. He waited for her, a terrible grunting laugh emerging from the helmet as he readied his weapon.  
The two-handed axe the hurlock wielded was larger than Lana was tall and looked to weigh more. While the general was exceptionally strong for one of his kind, he was unexpectedly faster too. No where near as fast as Lana, but he was a bit faster than anticipated. She nimbly evaded the powerful blow aimed at her, there was a crunching sound as the heavy blade smashed into the cobblestones of the street. Starfang, its blue blade shimmering with the silverite runes worked into it, flicked out, scoring a long gash along the general's arm.  
Thus began a deadly dance between the fiery, tiny woman and the monstrous giant. He proved to be quite skilled, but the bulky weapon hindered him. So Lana played her deadly game because she'd seen with the general occupied, the lesser darkspawn returned to their normal state of mindless savagery, leaving them vulnerable to her much more skilled friends. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Zev engaged in his own dance against the monsters. Behind her she could hear Morrigan's harsh chants followed by the series of wet thumps as the sorceress turned them into bombs that destroyed their fellows. Wynne's softer chants of healing and protection made an odd harmony with Morrigan's destructive powers. Leliana sang of valor and battle, songs that somehow brought light into darkness as her bow sang in counterpoint.  
As always, Alistair was at her side, first protecting them all from the emissaries he stunned with precise strikes of clean, white light. Then he guarded her against the more mundane threats that swarmed around them. When the bulk of the darkspawn were dealt with, Alistair joined her in that dance, taking on the attention of the general, freeing Lana up to do what she did best.  
Feeling Alistair in that strange mental union between Warden and darkspawn made Lana realize at that moment the nature of the bond between her and her beloved. It had clearly started as the normal tie between Wardens, but its nature had changed. Changed not just from friendship turned into love, but from shared pain and grief as well. So as the two fell into their well worn, yet oddly new, pattern, for it was new with each battle their saw, they took reassurance in that bond they shared.  
A swipe of Maric's blade turned the general's attention to Alistair, who barely managed to deflect the swipe of the ponderous axe. The not-quite-templar turned king stared in disbelief as Lana ran up the haft of the axe instead of doing the more sensible thing, which would have involved her coming up behind the huge creature to stab it in the back. No, instead she was running up the length of a weapon that could squash her flat to shove one sword through the eye slit of the hurlock's helm.  
Fortunately for her, the hurlock was just as baffled as the human male so he didn't react in time.  
"Are you insane?" Alistair yelled as she gracefully hopped away from the falling corpse, "What in the name of the Maker possessed you to do something like that?"  
She huffed slightly as she wiped her blades down, and surreptitiously looked for support, Zev and Leli were very carefully not looking at her, though she suspected she saw both of them trying to not to grin. Wynne merely shook her head, resigned to Lana's sometimes unusual methods of combat. Morrigan was glaring at her over Alistair's shoulder, clearly just as annoyed as the big warrior. Seeing the two that typically were polar opposites on everything, usually because of sheer spite, Lana couldn't help chuckling.  
That earned her a scowl from both of them, but it was Alistair who commented, "I fail to see what's so funny."  
Her lips curved up into that wicked grin that normally would get him to grin back, but not this time, even though her eyes sparkled with laughter, "You and Morrigan agreeing on something usually is a good enough reason."  
Despite himself, Alistair looked over his shoulder at the angry apostate who glowered at them both. Morrigan grumpily said, "Sometimes even idiots have good ideas. Let us be off, for there is a dragon we are hunting, no?"  
Nodding, Lana sheathed her weapons for the moment leading the others on to the Alienage, fearing what would be found there. Though it seemed futile, they left the piles of darkspawn corpses burning in their wake, like they had been doing for all of the monsters they'd killed since entering the city. They'd been doing such actions in the unspoken belief that there would be something left over once the battle was done.  
The Alienage seemed oddly peaceful when they first entered it.  
Unfortunately because of all the darkspawn in the general area, Lana still couldn't tell if this part of Denerim was in danger of being overrun or not. Yet, she could still feel the power of the general in the near distance. Then they heard the yelling in the distance, voices raised in defiance against the snarling darkspawn. Beneath that, the sounds of mages chanting as they cast their spells. Out of the corner of her eye, Lana saw Alistair frown as their group picked up the pace to help what defenders were there.  
"What is it?" She asked breathlessly.  
He continued to frown, "I think…there's apostates up ahead."  
"Alistair…" Lana couldn't help her exasperation. She thought he'd changed his mind about mages that were outside of the Circle. Maker knows they'd gotten enough help from the Mage's Collective more than once, even when not as part of the payment for services done. The apostates cared as much about the Blight as the more mundane citizens and did what they could to help.  
"There's blood magic being used."  
Lana saved her breath at that point as they started to flat out run, most of them had any use for blood magic, having seen far too much tragedy result from it being used by irresponsible people. She held a private opinion that used carefully, it could be a valuable asset. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen many mages use it responsibly. Not looking forward to dealing with blood mages in addition to darkspawn, or worse, darkspawn using blood magic, they grimly continued down the disturbingly empty street.  
"Who-", Started the shouted question as an elven woman bearing a bow with a quiver over her shoulders that started running towards them. Shianni beamed with relief when she saw the rather distinctive group of people approaching. "Thank the maker, Warden…the darkspawn..."  
The feisty elf trailed off as her eyes widened at the sight of Alistair, clearly word had of what the new king looked like had spread, "Your Majesty?"  
He shook his head, "Now isn't the time for formality. We're here to help."  
"W-we've got a barricade up, but it won't last much longer."  
"Shianni", Lana said quietly, but firmly in an attempt to not upset the woman any more than she already was, "Get your people out of here. The way behind us into the market district is clear."  
The elves did have bows, but no armor, no melee weapons heavier than some daggers and Lana was not going to sacrifice them, not when the darkspawn were being held up in a natural choke point. Said point was then blocked by a surprisingly solid wooden barrier that had been put into place by the locals.  
Shianni started to protest, "This is our home, Warden. We'll-"  
"Get them out of here!" Alistair's bellow cut her off. "I won't see my people throw their lives away like that."  
Stifling a smile at seeing Alistair using his new position in such a way, Lana nodded her agreement. As she started to head towards the barricade, she gestured for Wynne, Morrigan and Leliana to take positions on the platforms rigged to either side of the street before the barricade. She wondered if this was something planned for other reasons since they were too well constructed to have been together in time for the darkspawn invasion of the city.  
It was both heartening and dismaying to see the elves remain in position to continue to defend their homes. She saw a few hooded and robed forms mixed in with the archers, their frantic gestures were unmistakable as spellcasting. She wished that there was some way of getting people to see how the apostates were protecting people at risk to themselves. Maybe that would go a long way to getting others to realize that not all mages were evil. But that thought was for another time.  
The continuous thudding abruptly changed to a splintering sound as the ogre that had been pounding on the wooden barrier finally brought it down. It continued to ignore the hail of arrows and spells that rained down upon it. The genlocks at its feet, childlike in size in comparison to the massive creature, went down easily enough from the ranged attacks.  
Gleaming blades whipped out as the tainted monster charged towards the small woman. She stepped aside at the last moment letting it run by her. One blade lashed out severing the tendon in the back of the ankle, causing it to scream in pain and fall face first. She ran the blade up the length of the same tree trunk sized leg to keep it down. Zevran finished it off by shoving both of his blades into its head as he ran by. The most immediate threat down, she returned to the fray at the bottleneck.  
Falling into comfortable patterns with Alistair and Zev, Lana was able to keep most of her attention for the general. It was an exorcise in frustration as they slaughtered massive numbers of genlocks, hurlocks and the occasional shriek, but fortunately no further ogres. She could feel the power of the general nearby, yet couldn't spot it.  
Lana shouted, "Can you see it?"  
She skewered a genlock with the blade as she blocked one of its brethren with the other. One of the archers was kind enough to feather the monster for her. A hurlock shrieked and exploded before it could reach her as one of the mages dealt with it.  
"No! But I can feel it! I think it's some sort of emissary!" Alistair yelled back as he slammed his shield into the face of a charging darkspawn.  
Snarling, Lana shredded another group as she whipped her blades through the legs of more darkspawn before bringing them back together through their throats. On Alistair's other side came Zevran's laugh as he neatly decapitated a genlock.  
The seemingly endless number of darkspawn finally stopped, leaving a small group of casters that stared at them with animalistic hate, anger and hunger. Belatedly, Lana realized that she hadn't noticed the lack of hostile magic, occupied with the slaughter and trying to locate the now easily seen general. Who was a genlock emissary of some sort. The mages, not all of them apostates judging by the wary expressions on non-hooded faces as they regarded the hooded ones, had managed to keep the darkspawn casters occupied.  
It was a measure of how tired she was that she found herself marveling at the irony that there were genlock spellcasters and no shriek emissaries. She mentally shook herself as Alistair smote the casters making them easy prey.  
Ragged cheers erupted from the elves that had been acting as defenders when the last of the darkspawn went down. Fortunately, there weren't too many non-darkspawn bodies, but they still needed to be properly dealt with to keep from causing further problems for the residents. A gentle touch of unknown magic revived Lana and she looked up to see one of the hooded figures before her.  
"Forgive me, my lady, for not showing my face." The voice, slightly higher pitched than normal for a male, was familiar. Very familiar, but she couldn't place who it was or where she knew it.  
"Of course", she replied smoothly, "You would rather not be recognized. Though I can promise that Alistair has bigger concerns. Particularly since you and your fellows kept us alive."  
The mage shifted uncomfortably, giving the sharp eyed young woman a good glimpse of a long, pale face with black stubble on chin and cheeks. Then she recognized who he was. Well, that explained the blood magic, she just hoped he hadn't used any of the elves, though the only bodies she saw were ones hacked apart by darkspawn, and none that were...suspicious. She remembered offering the man a chance for redemption, if only for having to deal with Isolde, and letting him go from the Redcliffe dungeons in the middle of the night, making it look as if he'd managed to get out on his own.  
It wasn't until much later that she wished he'd done a better job of poisoning Eamon.  
"Er, on second thought, yes, you don't want him to see you", Lana said as she kept a wary eye out for her betrothed.  
"I did promise I would find a way to make up for what I've done, Warden. Or should I say, Your Grace? Your Highness?"  
She sighed. Even apostates were starting to lay it on thick, "Warden is fine. The rest isn't confirmed yet."  
"Mm hm. Anyway, there are other pockets of the Collective in the city doing what they can. I don't know how they're fairing, but they'll help where they can."  
"Any bit of assistance is appreciated. If you'll excuse me..."  
"Of course. May Andraste guard and guide you."  
Bemused the a maleficar would call upon Andraste for a blessing, Lana accepted the blessing. She wasn't going to turn away any well wishing. As she rejoined the others, she marveled at the fact that she could trust a blood mage before she could trust Riordan. But the worst she'd seen Jowan do was poison Eamon. She believed the mage truly regretted everything he'd done and was looking for redemption. Riordan however...  
Again, she shook herself. This wasn't the time to let her mind wander. But she was glad she had spared the somewhat incompetent blood mage. He'd proven useful in the defense of the Alienage and had wisely stayed away from the more questionable magics once he'd seen Alistair. So perhaps he could learn after all.  
Crossing the bridge heading from the Alienage further into the city, Lana briefly considered the possibility that she was being controlled with regards to her attitude towards mages, but dismissed it. For one, she noticed while they were cleaning up the mess that was Uldred's rebellion that those that had been controlled, it had been done either by desire demons or after days of torture like that poor templar. Not that blood magic wasn't-  
All thought about such abstract subjects vanished as a certain call seared its way through her mind.  
"Incoming!" Both Wardens cried out, "Run!"  
They ran across the remainder of the bridge just barely in time as the massive, corrupted dragon swooped down breathing odd, shadowy flames. The unnatural flames burned through the bridge. Clearly intending to make another pass, this time to get the people that were such threats to it, the archdemon swept into the air to make another pass. Instead at the apex of its arc, it abruptly banked away to fly in a completely different and unexpected direction.  
Bending down and bracing his hands on his knees as he gulped for air, Alistair panted, "See? Swooping is bad."  
Trying to regain her breath, Lana gasped out, "Only when there's dragons involved."  
"Ha!" The two grinned at each other, still too breathless to laugh. Remembering Alistair's comment about swooping in the Wilds, Morrigan glared at the two. The rest stared at the three debating if they wanted to know or not as they tried to get their breathing under control.  
Spurred on by the appearance of their long sought foe, Lana chivvied the still slightly breathless group into moving. As they made their way through the city to their rendezvous with Riordan, they kept catching glimpses of the great flying beast. Soon they could see that it was flying in circles around one of the watchtowers of the city. Every so often it would shriek in fury, accompanied by a bursts of that unnatural fire. It attempted to land once on the top of the tower, but it screamed in pain and leapt back into the air to return to its circling. As it dropped below the roof of the tower, Riordan appeared on the ledge.  
Too far away to do anything and no darkspawn nearby, they paused for a moment wondering what the senior Warden was up to.  
Morrigan gaped, "That fool is not going to do what I think he's about to?"  
As Riordan leapt from the roof to the back of the flying monstrosity, Alistair dryly said, "Yes, it does indeed seem like it."  
Shaking his head, Zevran commented, "This can only end in tears."  
"I never want to hear another comment about how I fight dragons", Lana huffed. "I at least wait until its on the ground."  
Stupefied at the scene, they resumed their journey to the Fort, wondering how Riordan was going to get the gargantuan creature to his intended destination. On their way, they could see enough of the aerial battle. The horrible screams of pain and fury from the archdemon were very easy to hear.  
At first it seemed like Riordan's mad plan would work, since he was able to claw his way up from the dragon's rear up to the middle of its back using his sword. Until he raised his blade for the next pull up and the dragon took the opportunity to remove the painful irritant on its back. With a shriek of mingled rage and victory, it bucked and twisted in midair, sending the Warden flying.  
Fortunately, he managed to land on a wing, once again using his sword as an anchor.  
Unfortunately, the dragon shook its frame and twisted while pulling up the wing that the man was on. With a sickening ripping sound the sword sliced through the leathery webbing. The dragon flung up its head, howling in agony as it snapped its wing in the effort to rid itself of the source of pain once and for all. The sword continued to slide through the tainted flesh even faster. It reached the edge, and with nothing to stop it, ripped out of the wing with a trail of burning, poisonous blood.  
Riordan fell in silence.  
They didn't see his landing, but they didn't have to see it to know what the outcome was.  
Grimly, Alistair and Lana exchanged glances, hoping that Morrigan's ritual would work. Yet, they knew their duty regardless of the ritual and continued on their way. They watched the archdemon struggle to remain airborne with its ruined wing until it landed roughly on the roof of the Fort. At least one part of Riordan's plan had worked.  
Wave upon wave of darkspawn tried to block their path as they got closer to the archdemon's landing place, but by then they'd been joined by units from the various armies that had been gathered. One brought word that the forces under Oghren and Sten's command still held the gates, despite a sizable incursion. The numbers made sweeping through the area around the palace incredibly easy. They were relieved to see that the palace was secure with no sign of any of the monsters getting into the building.  
Having those extra numbers was what made it possible for them to get through the meat grinder that had been hastily setup by the darkspawn as they tried to defend their injured god. Furious roars made by the wounded dragon could be heard in the distance. On the ground they faced not only heavily armed and armored darkspawn, but also some of the most skilled. Behind the hastily erected barriers and heavy melee fighters lurked the emissaries casting their terrible spells.  
Just as it looked as if they were going to finally break through the blockade, the dragon-thralls arrived.  
Dragons corrupted by the Taint, the already fearsome creatures possessed greater strength and spat out a foul spew instead of clean flame, thralls were a terrifying weapon in the darkspawn arsenal. Fortunately, they were rarely seen, even more fortunate was the fact that these thralls were clearly young dragons that hadn't yet matured. Still dangerous, but after facing numerous mature drakes, dragons, and two high dragons (or high dragon-like being in the case of Flemeth), Lana wasn't too fazed, though she would still be careful. As she eviscerated another darkspawn, she called out, "Hunters! Aim for the wings. Soldiers, once they're down, have at them."  
Though there were losses from the foulness spat out by the thralls, they went down quickly enough. Shot down by the bows of the Dalish arrows, then butchered under the swords and axes of the dwarven and human soldiers. Lana was already on the move, stalking through the shadows for the darkspawn casters. She knew Zev was on a similar hunt on the other side of the courtyard. Alistair obligingly created further distraction by simply charging up the center of the way, unleashing a powerful, widespread strike of holy fire on two of the emissaries closest to him. A hail of arrows from what archers remained helped to further reduce the numbers.  
Blades dripping with poisons specific to draining a mage of energy, the two assassins slaughtered the rest of the emissaries.  
With the last of the spellcasters down the courtyard was theirs, but at a high cost to their forces. Once again the roars of the archdemon could be heard, prompting the Wardens to return to their hunt. Leaving enough troops to secure the area, and making sure there were enough healers to tend to the wounded, they proceeded up the stairs to the massive doors of the Fort.  
Lana stared up at the doors for a moment, lips compressed into a pale, thin line. Her eyes dark from distress, she wondered if this place was going to be the death of her after all. A light touch on her shoulder from Wynne caused her to look over at the elderly healer, who in turn was watching her with concern. She gave the other woman a wan smile that didn't reach her eyes before going in to the place that had the starring role of her latest nightmares.  
Inside were piles of human corpses mixed with darkspawn. The sounds of battle echoed nearby. Hoping to save someone they raced on and found a group of beleaguered guards who surrounded someone in a protective detail against the swarming monsters. The darkspawn went down quickly under the additional support. Wearily the guards parted, revealing the person they'd been fighting so hard to defend.  
Pale and shaken, Anora stared at Alistair and Marlana fearfully, unnerved by the close proximity of the darkspawn. Or perhaps worried that the new King might finally fulfill his terrible promise.  
Grimly, the Wardens stared back at the former queen. While he considered the situation, Lana studied the defenders with cool, dispassionate eyes. Not showing the relief she felt, Lana caught her fellow Warden's attention and subtly shook her head.  
He nodded slightly in return, then as he pinched the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth as he said, "I'm not going to give even Anora to the darkspawn. Get her out of here."  
Lana impatiently nodded as the head of the guard looked at her for confirmation as she angrily said, "I wouldn't make the King change his mind if I were you."  
They fled before anyone could change their minds.  
As their group began to make their way through the lower level of the Fort, Alistair said in disgust, "I can't believe they thought I'd give them to the darkspawn. That goes against everything I am as a Warden."  
"Well, You know that I've promised to feed people to the darkspawn in the past."  
A disbelieving snort was the only response he gave her as to what he thought about the likelihood of her filling that promise.  
Behind them Zev began to pester Leliana about his role in her ballad about their adventures. Everyone snickered, including Morrigan, as the bard said in exasperation, "If you keep up in such a manner, Zevran, everyone will know you as the short, fat and bald companion!"  
The levity faded as they fought their way floor by floor. Fighting not just darkspawn, but summoned demons and spirits as well. And on one very memorable occasion, a mass of corpses reanimated by a genlock necromancer.  
Finally they were at the stairs leading up to the entrance of the roof.  
Both Wardens could still feel the sickening allure of the archdemon.  
Lana distributed vials to the group explaining, "This is a stimulant I've used a few times when there was no opportunity for me to get any rest." She didn't say that that the last time she'd used it had been over a year before when she fled her home. "We've been fighting and running through the city all day and I know that we're all beginning to feel it. It's best used sparingly since we won't be in shape to do anything after, but for now..."  
No one said anything as they grimly drank the bitter contents. The burst of energy was more than welcome, even if it was temporary.  
Marlana was in the lead when they emerged onto the roof and got their first good look of the archdemon up close.  
Bigger than the high dragon they'd battled in the mountains around Haven. Bigger than the form of a high dragon that Flemeth had assumed. In fact, it was bigger than both put together. Unlike the ravaged and warped visages of the darkspawn there was a kind of twisted beauty in the dark violet scales studded with odd glowing growths. Though the eyes seemed blind with thick cataracts that covered them, there was a malevolent intelligence and awareness in the seemingly blind orbs.  
At first it was occupied by the human soldiers that were on the rooftop trying to battle the thing. Then it sensed the two Wardens it raised tattered wings as it threw its head up in the air to scream its challenge before swatting aside the soldiers in its way like insignificant bugs.  
In that moment all could believe this was once a god. One driven into madness from corruption of the Taint.  
Falling into that strange serenity that had fallen on her intermittently ever since Riordan's revelation about how the Wardens sacrificed themselves to kill the archdemons to end the Blights, she gazed into those blind, seeing eyes. Marlana Cousland, reluctant Grey Warden, smiled her cold and terrible smile as she coolly said, "Let us end this then."  
Another scream of fury and the battle was joined.  
It didn't take long for her to be separated from the others, though Alistair was the only one who remained anywhere near what could be called close. But he was quickly overrun by mobs of darkspawn and so his attention fell to keeping himself alive despite what his instincts screamed at him to defend either Lana or to bring the fight directly to the archdemon.  
So it fell to her to direct their forces against the corrupted dragon.  
"Archers! Continue to aim for the wings and joints." She didn't know how much it understood of what was being said, but she had no other means of issuing orders. So she hoped that it wasn't as smart as she feared. In response to her command, the few Dalish that had made it to the rooftop battle sent another of their beautiful and deadly rain of arrows. They quickly scattered as the dragon's head whipped around in their direction to spit out its strange, otherworldly flames, before it went back to trying to get at Marlana.  
As she rolled out of the way of one claw swipe followed by a lightning fast snap of jaws that could have made Shale blanch, Lana tried to figure out why the dragon focused solely on her. Until she realized that there was something that made her blood feel like it had turned to liquid fire in her veins and that it was most likely the last of Avernus's concoction finally unlocking what potential there was that had been hidden away in the presence of the archdemon.  
Yet for all that it feel like she was burning up from the inside, it didn't hurt. If anything, Marlana felt more alive and energetic than she had in a long time. And it was whatever that was now singing in her veins that was drawing the attention of the archdemon. Getting a fast jab in with her blade into the side of the dragon, she called out again, "I need teams to man the ballistae!"  
Those that weren't bogged down by darkspawn ran to the nearest ballista to them. A small corner of her brain was pleased to see men, dwarves and elves working together without any more snarling than usual amongst warriors, but most of her attention was on the archdemon. She didn't really want to end her life being eaten by a dragon of all things. Even one that was once a god.  
Snarling, it snapped at her again, flailing tattered wings, sending sprays of poisonous blood in arcs about it. Some of that blood fell on nearby warriors who screamed out in agony before collapsing. Unable to allow herself to think about what she might have to do those poor souls later, Lana once again ducked under the gaping maw of the archdemon, this time with blades at the ready. As she ran under the beast, she dragged the rips of her swords through the vulnerable flesh. Its blood drenched her, which while incredibly unpleasant, did nothing worse than get her disgustingly sticky.  
Roaring loudly, the archdemon yanked its head up and away from Lana and swatted at her like a cat after a mouse since the angle was wrong for it to try to fry her with its flames. but she managed to evade it in time.  
Or rather, most of her evaded in time. The claw caught the tail end of her braid, breaking the ribbon and snagging a few strands of hair. Having no time to rebind it, Lana shoved her mane out of her face as she dodged another attack.  
Nearby came the swish thwock of a ballista, the thud of the bolt impacting the side of the dragon could be heard of the sounds of battle. Roaring in pain and anger it turns its attention to the thing that had injured it. The team ducked down between massive tower shields as flames rushed over the area taking out the wooden weapon. Protected by the shields, the soldiers were slightly singed, but not as badly hurt as they could have been without that protection.  
Lightning arced through the air into the large piece of metal imbedded in the monster's side, diverting its attention before it could press its attack on the ballista team. Snarling, it spat out another blast of flames, but the mage had already gotten out of range. Using the dragon's distraction, Lana shoved her blades into the nearest joint, causing another scream of pain filled anger.  
As it twisted to go after the Warden, another bolt thudded into the other side. Squalling, it swung its head in the direction of the latest threat even as it tried to step on the young woman. Another blast of lighting flew at the newest bolt, once again the metal making it easier for the energy to rip into the Tainted god. Completely infuriated it whirled around to go after the irritating mages, only to get struck by yet another ballista shot. Instinctively it tried to flap up and away, but the shredded wings did nothing but spray more of that deadly gore.  
Mantling its ruined wings, the archdemon began to suck in a breath to spit out a massive storm of its uncanny fire, Lana saw her chance. The tail of the beast had lowered enough, and more importantly, was still long enough, for her to run up the improvised ramp. By the time the dragon realized what she was doing, the Warden was able to use her blades as pitons to hang on as it lashed about in fury trying to dislodge her to no effect. More spells, accompanied by a few lucky arrows, distracted it from trying to get it's latest unwanted passenger.  
"What is that blasted girl doing?" Wynne's angry question made Alistair look up from the mass of darkspawn that was swarming the area he was in. He'd been trying not to fret over being separated from Lana, that he'd been too occupied by slaughtering the darkspawn surrounding the area. When he looked up to his lady scaling the back of the archdemon his heart sank.  
"Lana! What in the name of the Maker are you doing?" He yelled out. Realizing that she couldn't hear him over the sounds of fighting, the big warrior began began bulling his way through the seemingly unending numbers of corrupted monsters. Feeling Morrigan at his back as well as Wynne was something of a surprise, but it wasn't enough of a shock to break his focus on the insane woman scaling the incredibly huge dragon like it was a mountain. Mountainous was a good description, he thought, and knew Lana wasn't likely to survive the fall if the beast managed to throw her off like it did Riordan.  
Arrows sang out, bringing down the darkspawn in his way as Zevran appeared at his right, the elf's blades flashing as he helped clear the way for Alistair. But there were too many darkspawn for them to be able to get to the archdemon in time.  
Stomping about, the archdemon bellowed in rage and pain at the blades digging into its back, Lana grimly held onto the hilts of her swords sunk into the scaly hide while the dragon continued to try to dislodge her. It couldn't reach her with its fanged maw and it didn't dare try flaming itself. Instead it bucked and twisted, not caring that it crushed its darkspawn followers in its paroxysms, even as it tried lashing out at the other sources of its agony. Gritting her teeth, she silently acknowledged that this wasn't one of her better ideas. Since there were no better alternatives, she pressed forward.  
Once she got to the neck, it was actually easier for her to climb since the neck ridges made for convenient hand and footholds.  
The she was on the head.  
Duncan's sword, the normally dully grey blade a bright and shining silver from the runes worked into it, plunged down into the left eye as Starfang went into the right eye before the archdemon was able to react to her arrival.  
The wail that emerged was a terrible thing to hear.  
Marlana lost her grip on the dragonbone weapon's hilt almost immediately when the archdemon began flailing its head in earnest. Her feet skidded and slipped when her boots were unable to keep traction. All that saved her from falling to her death was her death grip on Starfang. For a moment she swung out over a sea of slavering darkspawn as the lesser monsters gathered at the claws of their corrupted deity. What forces that remained surged against the mob so that if she did fall, she wouldn't be overwhelmed.  
The mages in particular were helpful by lobbing fireballs, blizzards and electrical storms where no friendlies could be injured. As the disparate magics blended, they caused an impressive display of power, destroying large numbers of darkspawn.  
In a desperate attempt to be rid of the agonizing weight on its ruined eye, the archdemon snapped its head forward and down.  
With the wail of a dying soul, Starfang shattered just below the hilt.  
Marlana fell.  
She landed hard, but managed to absorb most of the impact by tumbling. Glyphs of protection and repulsion snapped into life around her keeping the darkspawn at bay, even as some faint healing began to work on her injuries. Lana go to her feet as quickly as possible, breath coming as wet, ragged heaves, little rivulets of blood training down the corners of her mouth. The once bright silver-white hair was matted from more blood flowing down from a gash in her head. Moving without her normal grace, she grabbed a greatsword out of a nearby corpse, one so charred that it was impossible to identify if it were human or hurlock.  
Limping due to an injured knee that hadn't mended yet, one that sent sharp shocks of pain all up and down her leg, Marlana began to charge the dragon, the sword dragging on the ground since it was longer than she was tall. There was no time for her to search for weapons more suited to her style.  
Anyway, it was the time for butchery, not finesse.  
Seeing what she was up, Alistair frantically tried to cut through the remaining darkspawn, screaming out, "MARLANA! NO! WAIT!"  
But she either didn't hear him, or ignored him, as she haltingly ran towards the archdemon, thrashing about in pure agony amidst a crimson pool of poisonous blood. She paused just long enough to see where she wanted to strike, unaware of her own blood flowing down the blade of the unfamiliar sword. Muscles screaming in protest, she swung the immense weapon up and over her head, then drove the sword down between the ruined eyes. Light blazed up the weapon into her hands as a visible sign of the power just being released from the former god.  
Marlana realized why the Wardens may not have used the ritual as light and power surged through her. Or maybe they had and it just hadn't used.  
With the power sizzling agonizingly along her nerves, gouging trails through her very soul, she understood there was still a price to be paid.  
It required a soul that was not just compatible with the old god, and god was indeed the right term for Urthemiel, dragon didn't begin to describe him and was a grave insult to a being of such power. There had to be a soul willing to sacrifice some part of itself so that the god could be reshaped so it could be contained within the vessel of mortal flesh.  
More importantly, the god had to accept the price demanded of the mortal and the price of being changed so that it could be redeemed.  
Everything has a price.  
For her love of Alistair, her love for her friends, for promises made to protect others, she paid that price in full.  
Her very essence was slowly splintering away as Urthemiel considered his end of the bargain, Marlana gazed into Alistair's distressed eyes as he finally managed to get to where she stood over the nearly dead god's corrupted form. The forces being released with the god's death kept him away from her, she studied him intently, memorizing every line and shadow of that beloved face. Despair welled up as Marlana began to believe that all the sacrifices made were coming to naught. She tried to say something to him, but couldn't hear herself and hoped that she was successful.  
She grieved when she saw his distress shift to grief and despair of his own.  
She hoped that he would eventually find at least happiness if not love again in the future.  
Unexpectedly the god spoke to her, his words echoing in every part of her being, "For your love and my redemption, I accept your payment and make my own."  
Alistair's expression of grief tempered by love was the last sight she took with her into the darkness that consumed her.  
Seeing Lana struggling against the energy pouring out of the dead dragon was horrifying to Alistair. And frustrating since he was helpless to do anything. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a similar expression on Morrigan's face and it felt like icy talons squeezed his heart. It was clear this wasn't expected by the mage.  
After everything they'd done, the sacrifices made, the prices paid, the ritual wasn't going to work.  
Sapphire eyes full of love and sorrow met his. Though he couldn't hear with his ears what she said, some part of him understood Lana when she said, "I'm sorry. I love you."  
The world exploded.  
When Alistair opened his eyes, he was amazed to be alive and knew he had to be. He hurt too much to be dead in the Fade. Groaning, he got to his feet, his companions were all doing the same.  
Except for one.  
The most important one.  
It was a scene from his worst nightmare. Looking more like a child's broken and discarded doll, Lana lay face down in a crumpled heap. Silver hair was stained crimson with blood, her armor black and crimson instead of black and silver. Slowly, numbly, he staggered over to her and stopped at a strangled sound from Morrigan.  
Hate and pain filled him as he whirled around, blade in hand ready to strike down the treacherous bitch. Yet, he stayed his hand at the look of horror, grief and disbelief in those yellow eyes.  
Alistair didn't recognize his own voice with how harsh it sounded as he ground out, "Get out of here before I forget what you were to her. Before I forget what you carry."  
She stared at him in distress, "I-I'm sorry, Alistair. I-"  
Morrigan didn't finish what she had to say, instead vanishing into a flurry of black feathers.  
Heartbroken, he turned to gather up the shattered body from the pool of slowly spreading blood.


	38. Matters of Trust

Mentally grumbling that he'd been reduced to doing the work of a bard, Zevran carefully sorted through the documents littering the desk in the dark office. Unfortunately, Leliana was off elsewhere doing her bardic duty for their friend and new king of Ferelden. Only two weeks since the archdemon was brought down and Alistair was already suspicious.  
With good cause, the former Crow thought darkly. The templar had learned well from Marlana. Shying away from the pain evoked by that name, he returned to his search. When he found what he was looking for, the assassin wasn't pleased, knowing how much this was going to hurt Alistair, who was already hurting a great deal emotionally.  
Yet, he'd made a promise to help Alistair in anyway if something happened to... Her. Zevran intended to keep that promise. Oddly enough, he felt some...distress at what he had to bring to the new king's attention. Rehearsing what he was going to say, Zevran made sure he left no traces of his presence before slipping out the door into the shadows to make his way into another part of the palace.  
Listening to the chatter of empty headed girls made Leliana realize that there were actually some things she didn't miss about being a bard in Orlais. Or maybe she'd been spoiled by the conversations she'd had on the road. Like the not entirely harmless, but fun, flirting with Zev, pestering Sten and Morrigan for stories of their respective homes, teasing Alistair about... The thought trailed off as she couldn't indulge in her grief at that moment. Later she'd allow the endless tears to fall.  
Finally, she was able to separate from the gaggle of maids to a certain study, cleaning supplies in hand as her unspoken reason for going into the room. Thankfully there wasn't anyone working in there at that moment. She knew that the true owner of the study wouldn't be there, but there was always a chance he'd have a secretary doing some sort of menial task. So under the guise of cleaning, Leliana began a search of the documents on and in the massive, highly polished desk. An hour later she was somewhat perturbed. There wasn't overtly treasonous, but enough pits and pieces that put together painted a trouble picture.  
Poor Alistair. Only two weeks since the archdemon was slain, not yet crowned and already dealing with treachery from one he should be able to trust.  
As she easily avoided the rest of the maids doing the evening cleaning, not to mention the guards, with the carefully gleaned information, she decided to see if the Chantry would hold off on the expedition for the Ashes for awhile.  
Leliana had a promise to a fallen friend to keep.  
Even if she hadn't made that promise, Alistair was also a friend and needed all the help he could get.  
Sitting at a quietly understated elegant desk in a study that had served the monarchy of Ferelden for generations, Alistair sat reading what had been brought to him. With his normally expressive face devoid of emotion, it was difficult for Zev and Leli to get a read on the big man, something that came as a surprise to both. Normally he was as easy to read as an open book. But ever since the Battle of Denerim, he'd become closed and withdrawn. Leli quietly mourned over the loss of the laughing young man, and to his surprise, so did Zev. He was still charming with moments of sweetness, but the light in his eyes was gone.  
Alistair finished skimming through the documents then pinched the bridge of his nose. Leli had been right, they weren't exactly treasonous, but his fledgling authority was being undermined. He never wanted the throne, that was no secret. But he'd come to see it as his duty, then eventually as a chance to do some good for the people of the country. Yet one of the people who was supposed to support him was pulling this crap...  
His mind shied away from thinking about the one devious mind he knew would have supported him to the utmost, who he could trust absolutely to have his back. Shoving that pain away, he focused on being grateful for having Leliana and Zevran to be there for him. While he may not have been able to absolutely trust them, in this he knew he had their support.  
"Would one of you be so kind as to have someone bring the Arl here? This needs to be dealt with now."  
A vicious grin flitted across Zev's features, "It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty."  
Shaking his head bemusedly at the assassin's quirks at addressing people, Alistair turned his attention to Leliana in the attempt for some casual talk while waiting for the man he'd rapidly lost any respect for in the last few months.  
Eamon Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe, former foster father to Alistair arrived in a foul mood since he'd been disturbed while meeting with some minor nobility. That was fine by the new king, he was well past foul at that point. He gestured at the seat recently vacated by Leli, the bard had positioned herself to the side of the room. Zev took up a similar place opposite of the lovely redhead, both of them weren't hiding the fact that they were guarding the king.  
Ignoring the spasm of sorrow of what had been lost, if he'd ever had it with the Arl, he used what he'd learned in keeping his voice politely frigid, Alistair said, "Have a seat, my lord, we need to talk."  
The older man's force contorted angrily before smoothing out, "Look Alistair, I know that you're upset about my suggestion regarding what to do about Marlana, but it's rather late for a situation that nothing can be done about."  
Alistair folded his arms across his chest, furious beyond measure. He wondered if the poison and demon had addled the man's wits. Or if the nobleman really thought Alistair was that stupid. Granted he'd gotten very good at playing stupid, but he was smarter than he had originally let on.  
"I suppose Loghain was right about a puppeteer, he was just wrong about who wanted to pull the strings", Alistair said grimly, not bothering to hide his anger, "No, my lord, this is about matters you've been keeping from me."  
"What are you talking about, Alistair?"  
The warrior king surged to his feet, placed his fists on the desk and leaned forward, scowling at the Arl, "Did you think I'm that stupid, Eamon? Did you think I wouldn't notice that I'm not getting all of the reports on the city that I live in? Or the country I'm now in charge of?"  
During the tirade, Eamon gradually grew paler and paler.  
Not giving the Arl a chance to say anything, Alistair continued, "Well, I'm not as stupid as you think. While I may not have been trained to be king, I can read and have a pair of working ears! When I get reports referring to previous ones, or worse yet, someone asks me about a request I never go, it's worrying. But to see that you've been hiding things that should have been brought to my attention? It can make someone suspicious."  
He grabbed up a handful of the parchments that he'd been given, "Then I'm given these and told you've had them all this time. And never told me, not even once!"  
"A-Alistair, please, let me ex-"  
The king made a cutting gesture with one hand, "No, Arl Eamon, there's nothing that you can say that will help. I think you've been away from Redcliffe too long, your people need their lord."  
Eamon looked startled, "I thought I was your chancellor."  
"And a chancellor isn't supposed to hide important information from his king!" Alistair roared in anger.  
Shoulders slumping, Eamon nodded mutely. It wasn't the first time that they'd had confrontations since the battle that saw the destruction of the archdemon. However, Alistair determined that this would be the last one. One of the things he learned in the past year, it was that sometimes you had to shout down the other person.  
More calmly, Alistair continued,"Obviously, you're more than welcome to remain in Denerim for the coronation at the end of the week, but until then I suggest that you may want to rest on your estate."  
That was another thing he'd learned. He'd spent enough time with people who were masters of the veiled threat to have picked up some of their tricks. Alistair knew he needed to work on his delivery, but figured this was a good start. The stunned nobleman mumbled something before leaving. Without any prompting on Alistair's part, Leliana slipped out after Eamon to keep an eye on the man.  
Alistair slumped back into his chair scrubbing at his face, exhausted now that the adrenaline in his veins started to faded away. Quietly Zev poured them each a glass of Antivan brandy. The palace, being as much of a fortress as anything else, had gotten through the darkspawn invasion better than most of Denerim. It'd been the reports on the city proper, the areas for those not nobles or incredibly rich in particular, that had sparked this final argument.  
"Thank you, Zev. And not just for the brandy."  
The elf took a sip and savored the quality. He noted with approval that the young man took a small taste before putting the glass down. "You are welcome. Though in truth it was originally due to a promise to... Her."  
Scowling, Alistair gritted, "You can still say Lana's name, Zev."  
"Perhaps", he shrugged wordlessly. Both were quiet for a moment, then Zev sighed. "She would be proud of how you handled Eamon."  
A small, sardonic grin lifted up one corner of Alistair's mouth though his brown eyes remained bleak, "Who do you think I learned it from? She may have claimed to not be a political genius, but I'm pretty sure her father was. And Lana being Lana, listened to him entirely too well."  
Then trying to avoid scraping their nerves rawer, Alistair took a sip of his brandy then sighed, "You said something about a promise?"  
Not looking up from the snifter that he was gently swirling, the former Crow nodded and spoke quietly, "When... Lana was making her rounds that last night in Redcliffe, she asked a favor of the lovely bardess and myself. That we make a most solemn oath that if something should happen, "Zev paused for a moment to take a longer than usual swallow of brandy, "That we would do what we could to help you as king."  
Even on the eve of the greatest battle in their lives that Lana was still looking out for him, and quite likely when he was... with Morrigan, caused Alistair's throat to close as his emotions threatened to boil over. Before he could say anything, Zev kept speaking as he studied his glass, "Yet, I found a most curious thing."  
It took another sip of brandy to east that lump away, "And that is?"  
"That I wanted to help you even without that ridiculous oath." The elf gave the new king a sly smile, "Somehow you have become a friend of sorts, Templar, and I would not throw you to the wolves as it were. Though since we're in Ferelden, that might be more apt than most places."  
"Ha! One of these days we'll get you a mabari pup and we'll see how much you complain about dogs and wolves then."  
Zev screwed up his face in mock disgust, "Oh the horrors! You would saddle me with one of those fur covered, slobbering mountains you call dogs?"  
Alistair smirked back slightly, then sobered, "Thank you, Zev. Truly. I'll find some way of rewarding you."  
For the first time since the archdemon had been killed, Zevran gave voice to his generous laugh, "What? More than the luxurious quarters and princely sum you're paying me?"  
The elf's quip earned him a faint chuckle, one that actually warmed the all too dark eyes. Alistair had made arrangements for the companions to have rooms in the palace. Unfortunately, there'd been a gross misunderstanding about Zev's position. Initially he'd been assigned a room in the servants quarters. A situation he'd found highly amusing, but Alistair hadn't. It had been easily rectified, but the assassin couldn't resist teasing the former templar about the incident. They were still negotiating Zev's fee for his services.  
In an attempt to step away from painful memories they chatted lightly while they waited for Leli to return. The talk inevitably turned towards court gossip, which proved a source of amusement as the two men took turns parodying various people. As Alistair was topping off their glasses, Teagan's weary voice came unexpectedly at the door, "Please tell me that there's enough for another person."  
Recovering from his surprise, Alistair nodded, "Of course, have a seat, my lord." Unlike Eamon recently, Alistair's use of the bann's honorific held warmth and respect. At the use of the honorific, Teagan looked sharply over at his adopted nephew. He said mock sternly, "And I thought I told you to call me by my name, Alistair."  
With a hint of his familiar boyish grin, Alistair said, "As you wish...Teagan."  
The bann gave him a weary smile as the younger man handed him a snifter of brandy, then gave Zev his refreshed drink before settling back down in his chair. Teagan slugged back half his brandy, causing Alistair to quirk up a brow in surprise and a look of admiration from Zev. "A couple of things actually. First... What did my brother do this time?"  
Alistair's mouth compressed into a tight angry line despite himself, "What makes you think that Eamon did anything?"  
"Aside from the fact I saw him leaving the palace looking angry and terrified? Just your reaction alone tells me that he got you angry. Again."  
Instead of answering right away, Alistair took another slow sip of brandy as he tried to keep calm. He couldn't help but marvel at the irony of the situation, it wasn't so long ago that a certain someone had been in the same position he found himself in now, "He's your brother, I don't want to make this awkward for you."  
Teagan was silent for a moment studying his glass, to give the two men privacy for their conversation, Zevran quietly excused himself with, "I think I shall go see what is holding up the lovely Leliana."  
Even after Zev's departure, Teagan remained silent for a time. Giving the nobleman time to gather his thoughts, Alistair went back to reviewing the reports he hadn't gotten before, trying not to get angry all over again. Fortunately nothing major had been hidden, but there were parts of the city that needed more assistance than some of the quarters he'd been told about. It wasn't surprising that one of the sections in question was the Alienage, but it saddened him in a way that he couldn't express.  
Finally Teagan stirred, "In truth, Alistair, I wonder about my brother. Ever since you and...Lana restored him, he hasn't been himself. Or maybe now he's showing who he truly is. I don't know. Just... in a way I'm glad that you finally had it out with him, Alistair. For your sake, and the sake of Ferelden."  
"Well, that makes what I'm about to ask somewhat easier, then", Alistair said dryly.  
"Oh? Do tell."  
"How would you like to be my chancellor?"  
Not expecting that question, Teagan choked slightly as he took a sip of his brandy. The younger man leapt to his feet to go to the other's assistance, but Teagan waved him off. Once he regained his breath, he asked, "That's a bit of an abrupt way to ask someone, isn't it?"  
Alistair shook his head, his hair stirring slightly with the movement since he'd started to grow it out a bit, "Not at all. I've been giving it some thought actually. When I'm not busy running the country down even further."  
While Teagan frowned, another shake of the king's head kept him quiet, "I know I'm not trained for this. I'd agreed because I thought I'd have... Well, advice that would help from someone I could trust. But that advice isn't available, I need someone else I could trust. There's no hiding the fact I haven't been happy with Eamon for awhile now..." He sighed, "But I thought I could trust him enough to help teach me what I needed to do a decent job of it."  
He pinched the bridge of his nose, "But now...I find I can't trust him at all. There are other nobles that have connections as well, who might have the knowledge to help run the country... But some of those same connections are ties that can compromise them."  
The bann's sea blue eyes widened in surprise at the political astuteness that Alistair displayed which earned him a wry smile, "Oh, that's not my thoughts at all. I was with Lana when she was rallying support for me at the Landsmeet. I was starting to learn what she'd grown up with."  
"I...see."  
"So, will you accept?"  
"You still haven't told me why you wanted me in particular."  
"I told you, I want someone I can trust. And not just trust, but who also knows the nobility and has their respect. You fit all three requirements."  
It was Teagan's turn to pinch the bridge of his nose, "You do remember that I try to avoid playing as much politics as possible, right?"  
"Yessss... And I seem to remember you being one of the ones who agreed to making me king of all people", was the dry response.  
"I suppose you do have a point, Your Majesty", Teagan's eyes twinkling with affection and sudden humor for the young man. Who mock glowered back at the use of the honorific he hated even before he'd agreed to try for the position.  
"So, are you going to accept it or not?" Came the somewhat grumpily worded question.  
"Well, when you put it so very eloquently..."  
Alistair grimaced, "I'm not the eloquent one. Lana was..." He trailed off, caught off guard by the sudden stab of pain. He'd been able to suppress it until now, but it had been building and this was the final straw for his emotions. He mentally kicked himself, after how his life had gone until now, it was stupid to be surprised that he wouldn't be able to keep the one person who made everything worthwhile.  
No, he thought savagely to himself as he struggled with his raw emotions under Teagan's sympathetic gaze, there was still some hope left, don't give up now.  
Quietly, the bann said, "I accept."  
Hating that his voice was hoarse from the still raging emotional storm within, Alistair asked, "Agreeing so easily?"  
"I just wanted to be sure you had thought it through. I can see that you did." He hesitated and Alistair gestured for him to continue, "I also wanted to be there for you, because I do see you as my nephew."  
Closing his eyes, Alistair had to swallow away the lump that formed at everything that was left unsaid. "Thank you, Teagan."  
Zev rushed breathlessly into the room before Teagan could say anything else. The normally imperturbable elf was wide eyed in distress.  
"Oh Maker", Alistair groaned, "What now?"  
"Fergus Cousland is here."


	39. Easier To Run

"Pup? What are you doing here?" Bryce Cousland looked up from his desk at the young woman standing in the doorway of his study, his voice full of worry. His eyes even more so. The sorrow she saw there was gut wrenching.  
She stared back with a look of sickened shock on her face as she studied the man that made her all that she was. Her long silver-white hair was still sticky and matted from the blood of Urthemiel, armor spattered with the same gore. Marlana was torn between running to her dead father or away, so remained where she was. He looked younger and had less stress lines than she remembered. If not happy, then at least content.  
"Who is it, Bryce?" Eleanor rose from her customary seat by the fireplace that was behind the desk as she set aside her customary embroidery project. She too looked far younger, and happier than the distraught Warden remembered. Her brilliant green eyes widened at the sight of her daughter, "Maker's breath! Lana? Why are you here?"  
The tears began to flow as she shook her head at the stab of grief and guilt laden love, then she backed away, "I-I'm sorry."  
It was easier to run. So that's what she did, unable to face her dead parents, not wanting to face what seeing them meant. She fled through the halls of the too familiar castle that had been home once upon a time. Even if she reclaimed Highever in life, it could never feel like home again after that terrible night of blood and fire from the betrayal fueled by a bitter man's jealousy.  
They called out to her, but didn't follow. She desperately tried to ignore her mother's final words, but couldn't block them out. Her tears finally blinded her when she heard, "I love you, my darling girl."  
What few guards were in those empty halls called out to her, but didn't stop her either, though the worry and concern in their voices tore at her almost as much as her parents. They sounded so much like the gruff men and women who had a soft spot for their lord's fierce daughter, who willingly played with her on their off duty hours. And sometimes on duty if it meant keeping the inquisitive and energetic little girl out of trouble.  
Those same guards that taught her how to use dagger, sword and bow. Some of whom taught her how to properly make and use poisons on the sly when the realized just what she was reading in her off time.  
The very same people who died trying to defend their home and their liege lord.  
But as the familiar corridors turned back upon themselves, she realized why no one had tried stopping her. The castle itself was enough to trap her. Instead of making her grief worse or frightening her, it made her angry instead. An angry Marlana was a very bad situation for anyone.  
In the physical world, or that of the spirits, things tended to die quickly and messily when she became infuriated.  
She welcomed that fury, since it cleared her mind of those emotions that clouded her mind. And Lana began to realize that this felt more like when she was trapped by that damned demon in the Tower.  
That was just more fuel for the fires of her temper.  
Just when she was prepared to do what she would otherwise consider unconscionable, she heard two familiar male voices. Voices she never thought to hear together, speaking to one another.  
Fergus. And Alistair.  
Fear came as a cold shock to the system causing the fury to drain away, but she refused to let it stop her. Under the fear was also curiosity. If the worst had happened to her beloved, why would he be speaking with her brother of all people?  
So she followed their voices, instead of finding brother and lover, she found the main gates.  
Lana could no longer hear their voices, but wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to escape this nightmare.  
-oOo-  
For all that Alistair had started to get used to dealing with Ferelden nobility, being confronted by this particular noble was extremely intimidating. For all that he was broader in chest and shoulder and had more muscle on his frame, the other man had a feral, almost wolfish air about him. The dark auburn hair was shaggy with thick streaks of gray running through it, the hazel eyes were weary, yet didn't miss anything. The heavy chain the man wore had seen better days, yet was as well maintained as possible. The same for the battered sword and shield at his back.  
Of course it didn't help that it felt like he was being confronted by a ghost.  
Despite his efforts, there was some nervousness in his manner when he extended his hand in greeting to Fergus Cousland, Alistair warmly said, "Welcome to Denerim, my lord. I'm glad to finally be able to meet you."  
Fergus studied him for a moment before a genuinely warm smile lit up his weary face as he clasped Alistair's hand in return, his grip was firm, but not challenging, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Majesty."  
Flustered, Alistair rubbed the back of his head after the greeting, just barely remembering to keep from blurting out his astonishment at that comment, though he couldn't keep from flushing slightly, "Thank you, my lord. But please, call me Alistair." He gestured to Teagan, "I'm sure you remember Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere. And the poor soul who got the job of being my chancellor."  
The introduction caused faint smiles from both men who greeted one another with some familiarity. They'd known one another from the Landsmeet and the rare times their families met.  
Alistair continued, "And...would you like a seat, something to drink? Perhaps something to eat?"  
He really didn't want to have the kind of talk he was now facing, at least with Lana in the state she was. How could he explain to her big brother that she'd been unconscious since she killed the archdemon two weeks ago? That none of the healers could figure out why so they could wake her up. Yet it was clear that the exhausted man had been the road for some time and this conversation would be best done sitting down.  
For a moment Fergus stared at him, then nodded and slumped into the closest chair. Alistair walked over to the small bar, understanding why it was there now, unlike when he was first shown the room. And while he would never be able to meet Oghren's capacity for alcohol, he had managed to develop some tolerance. He'd been forced to in the past, if he didn't want to keep dealing with Lana's idea of a hangover remedy. It worked, but it was horribly unpleasant and Wynne had no sympathy since it was his fault for letting Oghren talk him into trying something new.  
Trying to keep his tone pleasant, he was proud of the fact he could keep from stuttering in nervousness. Or worse yet, babbling as he tended to do in the past. "So what will it be my, erm, Fergus."  
"Whiskey, if you have it."  
Wanting to keep a clear head for this conversation, Alistair poured himself some now tepid tea after giving Fergus his drink, but before sitting down he poked his head out the door where one of the guards out in the hall came to attention. "Yes, sire?"  
Telling himself that he was just being a good host and most definitely not trying to put off the horribly painful and awkward talk, he gave a slight smile, "Er, yes. If you could have someone bring up a meal for Teyrn Cousland and a snack for Bann Guerrin and myself?"  
There was a hint of amusement when Alistair mentioned the snack, by then it was common knowledge about how much the new king could eat and not put on excess weight. Some claimed that it was because he was a young man, others said because of how hard he still trained as a warrior. The few that had served the Hero of Ferelden during the short time she was at the palace before the great battle said that it had something to do with him being a Warden. But the guard being a wise man allowed none of those thoughts to show, aside from the small smile, saluted his new king before finding the scamp who was the page on duty to run down to the kitchen.  
Nervously, Alistair returned his attention back to the one man he was eager to meet and dreaded at the same time. Reminding himself he'd faced down bitchy apostates, angry abominations and an ancient twisted god, what was one man?  
Marlana's older brother, maker help him.  
"Um, yes. Well. Where did you want me to start?"  
With a deceptively calm tone Fergus Cousland said, "Marlana of course."  
-oOo-  
The night sky overhead held far too many stars, even though the clearing she lay in was yet another achingly familiar place. Trying not to remember the last time she'd been here at night, Lana tried to figure out how to... get back home so to speak. There were no convenient pedestals, no dreamers to offer guidance, no demons to battle. Just the spirits of those she failed. Or spirits that took on the guises of those she failed.  
It was hard to tell when the spirit, or demon, could use your own mind against you.  
Another of those she failed settled down next to her. Slim, gentle fingers began to tease through her hair in a way that hadn't been done in over a year. When she was still a girl dreaming of becoming a woman and was able to find time to chat with the young woman who was not just her best friend, but also the sister of her heart. How many times over the years had they met here? Their guards always just out of earshot of normal conversational volume. How many times had they laughed or cried together while playing with each other's hair in such a way?  
Feeling that hand in her hair, for all that it was a sister's touch, just made her miss Alistair even more. It'd been his hands that she'd grown used to doing such actions, but in a different manner. For a very different reason. Or maybe not so different, just a different type of love.  
For a very brief moment, she thought she heard his voice, but couldn't sense him nearby, then his voice faded.  
Tears she'd been fighting off finally came out in a flood and in a choked voice she whispered, "Gwen."  
"Oh, Lana. Why do you punish yourself?" Though tartly said, there was concern underneath in the other young woman's voice. Lana didn't have to roll over to see a young woman not much older than her. A woman who Eleanor had always not-so-subtly used as an example of a proper noblewoman. The other woman was tall, curvy, with porcelain skin, pale jade green eyes and whose glossy black, curly hair was always coiffed just so. Whose hands were soft, nails done just so in the manner of a pampered girl of noble rank.  
Unlike the tomboy Marlana, Gwendolyn Faolain always wore dresses or skirts and the deadliest things she wielded were pen and needle.  
Lana didn't turn around because she didn't have the strength to see what condition her heart-sister was in. The ruined travesty of her friend dying in her arms was still a painfully fresh memory even now, even after all the other horrors she'd lived through. Or had she lived through them? She thought Urthemiel had taken the bargain, but if he did, why was she here? She was fairly certain he hadn't taken possession of her body, for one she had a feeling she'd be a prisoner in her own body. Not the Fade.  
Mentally shaking herself for letting her mind wander, Lana asked, "Am I punishing myself? Or a better question, are you truly Gwen?"  
There was silence still as that soothing touch continued to work on the tangles, before there was an exasperated sigh, "If I say yes, will you believe me?"  
"I don't know."  
A soft chuckle, "You always were the honest one."  
"Not anymore, I've learned to lie with the best of them. Or the worst, depending on how you see it", Lana said dryly.  
The fingers pulled away when they reached the first of the mats in the hair that were sticky from blood, only to be replaced by a comb. There was an exasperated sigh, "I'd ask if you were at least honest with yourself, but that'd be futile. You were always harder on yourself than anyone else ever could be."  
"Be careful of the blood, it's from Urthemiel as the archdemon and I don't know if the Taint can affect spirits."  
Another sigh, but this was full of revulsion as she pulled the comb out of the bloody mess. "There's no Taint here, at least, not in this...gore that's in your hair. It's just disgusting. You were always so fastidious."  
Somewhat dryly, Lana said, "Yes, I'll be sure to ask that I can take a bath after killing a corrupted god and getting covered in its blood before its spirit sucks me into the fade."  
A faint smile curved her mouth as she spoke though. Either it really was Gwen or an exceptionally perceptive spirit, but that comment sounded like Gwen through and through when faced with something she found repulsive. She'd heard that tone often enough when they were young girls and Lana thought she found something interesting. Like the giant, slimy frog the one time they'd been taken to a small pond to splash about in during a hot summer afternoon. Gwen's shrieks could be heard for miles around. The guards who came running, certain something awful had happened, didn't help the situation at all with their reaction.  
They'd started laughing when they saw one muddy little girl holding out an annoyed, squirming frog out to another little girl that was no where near as mud covered.  
That was when Lana's hair was still auburn with fiery red highlights.  
"You're thinking of that damn frog, aren't you?"  
"Who said it had to be the frog? Why not the time I tried to get you to dig up worms to go fishing? Or the time I found that large lizard?"  
"Because you always bring up that revolting creature anytime you think I'm getting squeamish ."  
Lana kept silent since Gwen was quite right. There'd always been something about the frog that always bothered her friend the most, regardless of all the other fascinating things Lana found. It took Oogie to teach Lana just what was truly disgusting, either in the form of "gifts" or something he decided to roll in.  
The young noblewoman finally worked up the courage to ask, "Why are you here, Gwen. If not to chastise me?"  
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe we wanted to help?"  
"Help... In what way? And we?"  
"I'm going to ignore that ridiculous second question. And yes, help you get home to that very handsome man that's been pining over you. Now I can understand why you were so picky all this time."  
Her cheeks flushed at her friend's teasing. "I, um, never intended to fall for my fellow Warden."  
A wicked chuckle bubbled out of Gwen, "Of course not! That's the best part of it. You were always the smart and careful one, so when you finally fell, you fell hard."  
"Er, just how much do you see from...here."  
The soft exhalation couldn't even be called a sigh, "Not as much as we would like. Just glimpses really."  
"I see. Anyway...Alistair is much more than just handsome, he's a good man-"  
"Don't you dare! You deserve a good man, that you met him during the darkest time in your life is a good thing. This way you had a reason to keep going through the Blight." Lana blinked at the fierce tone, Gwen rarely was so passionate. Unless she was being handed something slimy. A gentle pat on the head, "You're all done."  
Reluctantly, Lana sat up to look at her friend. Who looked back at her with too knowing green eyes set in unravaged features and was indeed wearing her favored skirts. How the young tomboy and the young lady ever became and remained friends were a mystery to them all, including the two friends. Yet the two found enough in common to become fast friends when they met as toddlers, then the best of friends as they grew older. The tears threatened to return, "Gwen, I-"  
"Shhh. There's nothing to apologize for. You're just one person, you couldn't stop Howe then anymore than you could stop the tide. Though knowing you, Lana, you would've made him paid in full." Until she smelled the lavender that the other young noblewoman used to keep her clothing fresh, Lana didn't realize she'd wrapped her lost friend in a hug. But she couldn't help it, she'd missed Gwen more than she allowed herself to realize and why it had been so hard for her to warm up to Leliana. The two were so similar in many ways, though Gwen hadn't developed any martial skills, there'd been no need, nor desire, for her to learn. She wasn't even particularly devout, even if she did believe in the Maker. Or at least paid lip service to it.  
A soft hand once again soothingly stroked the long hair, "Sister of my heart, I am so proud of you. Even though I don't know everything, I know you did what should have been impossible. Now it's time for you to go and live the life you've made for yourself."  
Sitting back, Lana scrubbed at her face and said with a small smile, "And knowing you, you're going to tell me how to do it."  
"Of course!" A grin brightened Gwen's face. Then she sobered, "There's someone you need to meet."  
Sapphire eyes narrowed dangerously, "The one that's keeping me here?"  
"No, Lana. You're the only one keeping yourself here. But he might be able to show you the way out."  
-oOo-  
Wrung out emotionally from dealing with Fergus Cousland right after telling off Eamon, Alistair prepared for bed. Not expecting anyone, except for possibly a nurse making one of the nightly checkups, he still pulled on a robe just in case there was someone else there after pulling on his sleeping breeches. It had felt odd to sleep nude in a bed that was empty except for him, so he had taken to wearing the breeches. Then he quietly let himself through the connecting room to the Queen's Suite where Lana slept, or so he told himself that's what she was doing.  
It'd become a nightly habit for him to say good night to the unconscious woman, hoping that she'd hear him wherever her spirit wandered and would come back to him.  
He shouldn't have been surprised to see Fergus sitting at her bedside, holding one of her hands. A hand he knew from personal experience that would be slightly cool to the touch, the only thing telling a person that she was alive was the faint pulse in her wrist or the shallow movements of her chest as she breathed.  
There was no sign of that brilliant spirit that was so full of fire and ice with its unexpected sweetness.  
Instead, she looked like a doll laid down for a nap by a little girl told that it was time for hers. Alistair knew for a fact that Lana didn't sleep like that. If she had a sleeping place all to herself she tended to sprawl out, taking up all available space much like a cat. Unlike a cat, it was generally easy to get her to move over at least.  
Quietly, "I'm sorry, Fergus, I didn't mean to disturb you."  
"No, you're no bother." Hazel eyes regarded him thoughtfully, "Came to say good night?"  
Flushing slightly, Alistair nodded a wordless agreement.  
Another of those warm smiles that twisted him up inside, it reminded him too much of the woman he loved. "Hard to believe that my little sister actually found someone willing to marry her. And is the king no less."  
The boyish grin was a shadow of itself, but still reflected part of the new king's charm, "Hey now, Lana's got a bit of a temper, but she's not that bad. And I'm not officially crowned. At least for a few more days."  
Fergus snorted, "That's because she likes you, you didn't see how she treated the would-be suitors she didn't like."  
Dryly, "Oh, I have a good idea. I saw what she did to people she didn't like when we were trying to get help to stop the Blight."  
A soft laugh, "I'm glad to know she didn't lose any of that fire. Anyway, I'll leave you be to say your good night."  
"Truly, I didn't mean to disturb your time with your sister."  
"Oh, I should've gotten myself to bed some time ago. And I'm sure that I'll have plenty of time tomorrow."  
"Absolutely, I may not be the smartest man there ever was, but even I know better than to keep a man from his little sister."  
Fergus clapped Alistair on the shoulder with another of those gut twisting smiles. "Just remember, Alistair, where there's life, there's hope."  
"One of Lana's favorite sayings."  
"Who do you think I learned it from?" Another pat that Alistair wasn't sure who it was meant to reassure, him or Fergus, the Teyrn left the room.  
He lovingly ran his rough fingertips along one cheek and murmured quietly, "I love you. Miss you so much. Come back to me. Come back to your brother. You're the only family he has left."  
For a long, silent moment he watched over her, remembering his desperate calls for a healer when he realized she was still alive at the end of that awful battle. How he had been the one to carry her to the nearest infirmary, not because of him being over protective of her, but due to the fact no one else could with her covered in the blood of the archdemon. Just as he'd been the one who had to wash it off of her.  
Alistair remembered the bitter tears he'd wept at the extent of her injuries as they were revealed when the armor had been removed and the blood washed away. The healers had been amazed she was still alive. Even more so at being able to heal her. And now... now they tried to figure out why she still didn't wake.  
Contrary to what Eamon believed, they weren't sustaining her with magic. Just old fashioned nursing. Her body still functioned normally, including chewing food given to her. So he'd been justifiably furious when Eamon suggested that they let her go. Letting her go meant letting her die from starvation and dehydration. A terrible fate for someone who had done so much to save them all.  
The person who had reacted even worse to the "solution" had been Wynne. Everyone was now terrified of the normally sweet tempered mage after the impressive display of power from her losing her temper at the Arl. Everyone reconsidered the "grandmotherly" description for the elderly mage after that.  
Shaking off those grim memories, Alistair leaned down to lightly press his lips against her unresponsive mouth in a kiss, "Good night, my love."  
-oOo-  
Two women stood before an archway set into a massive, ancient, pale stone wall that reminded Lana all too much of the ruins of Ostagar. Unlike that fateful day the air was still, no sharp, cool wind blowing, trying to pull her hair out of its confining braid.  
"I'm afraid this where we have to part, sister", Gwen said in a small, quiet, sad voice.  
Lana nodded her understanding, tears starting to brim in her eyes, annoyed at her own melancholy. "It was...good to see you again."  
Gwen rubbed at her eyes, trying to prevent her own tears then smiled a little, "We'll see each other again, just not for some time. Be well. Have a long and happy life with your Alistair."  
There was one brief, fierce hug, then Gwen was gone.  
Alone again, the soul-weary young woman stood before the entrance wondering if she was to relieve the events of Ostagar all over again. Only this time without Alistair's solid presence. She admitted to herself that she had started falling for her templar there. It'd been his sense of humor that saved her from the pit of despair that threatened to swallow her.  
He hadn't pushed for information about she was there like that idiot Jory. Or tried clumsily hitting on her the way Daveth had. He earned her respect when he'd proven willing to lightly chastise her for mocking Jory's fear of the darkspawn when they were in the Korcari Wilds.  
Using those memories, and so many others, to bolster her confidence, Lana stepped through the archway into an ancient courtyard of Tevinter style. And whirled around when the two parts of the wall melded into a whole. Trying to control her fear, and the small flicker of anger that appeared with it, she took a deep breath to look around the place. If only for an idea of how to escape.  
The ground was covered in paving stones of the same pale stone as the now singular, circular wall. Benches of sparkling white stone studded the perimeter.  
The interior of the wall was covered in climbing bushes studded with roses the color of heart's blood and wickedly sharp looking thorns the length of her little finger.  
At first she didn't see the figure at the other side of the courtyard until he turned around to face her. Taking his movement as an invitation, Marlana slowly approached him, not understanding the rival feelings of kinship and the desire to attack him with the weapons she didn't have.  
The first good look at his face came like a blow.  
Alistair.  
But not.  
The jaw wasn't as broad, his build, though muscular, was too slim. The hair was longer, darker with reddish highlights.  
It was the eyes that told her that the man, if he could be called such, wasn't Alistair.  
She stared at her own eyes. Her own tortured soul mixed with something else. Something alien. Yet not. The kinship she felt was in the soul, not the blood. Strange that his features were Alistair's mixed with hers, not Morrigan's.  
"Urthemiel."  
A shy smile formed, "Mother."  
At least his voice, though warm, deep and vibrant, was his own and nothing like Alistair's.  
Thrown by that greeting, her pale brows rose, "I'm fairly certain that's what you should be calling Morrigan." She frowned slightly, "And I'm sorry, but why are you here?"  
The smile changed into a painfully familiar smirk, "This is as good of a place as any other to spend the next nine months or so. As for calling you mother... Father certainly isn't the right term."  
Caught off guard, she blinked slightly. This was not how she expected a being like Urthemiel to act. Of course, she wasn't entirely sure how he should act, but sounding a great deal like Alistair wasn't something she'd anticipated. Though technically he was Alistair's son now... She laughed in her mind, if this was the personality that Urthemiel was going to have as a human, Morrigan was going to pull her hair out in frustration.  
The dragon god made human sat down on one of the benches and patted the empty space beside him. Cautiously, she perched on the edge. Not feeling the expected bite of cold stone was what made Lana realize just how she knew that she was in the Fade. The lack of sensation from the environs. No wind, gentle or violent, no scent from the roses, no birdsong , and no sounds of small creatures rustling in the bushes.  
He spoke again, "Why shouldn't I call you mother? Your sacrifice is what let me live, though I know you didn't do it for me personally. You willingly granted me pieces of your very being so that I might be reshaped and hidden from the Twisted Ones. Not that your Morrigan won't shape me in some ways. After all, she will be my guardian and guide. To teach me what I need to know. "  
She thought on those last few moments of consciousness when it felt like her very begin was splintering apart and put together with something else. "And you gave up parts of yourself in return... Does that mean I carry whatever it was that called to them?"  
"Oh no! Nothing like that. I am...no longer the being I once was. I am something else now, though I carry my old memories and knowledge. Whether that survives the experience of growing up as a human child remains to be seen." He looked thoughtful, "That should be interesting adventure at the very least. It has been a very long time since I was a hatchling. As for your concern... You're still you, and about as human as you ever were."  
"And what is that supposed to mean?" She tried not to growl out the question, but it came out harsher than she intended.  
"I can't tell since I'm not near your physical form, but your spirit...it's different, it blazes so very brightly that I'm amazed that you can see at all."  
Lana frowned at him, as far as she could see, she was the way she always was. "Everyone keeps telling me that, and I've seen how demons have a hard time seeing me."  
An earnest nod, "Indeed. Something changed you at one time, or maybe more than once. I'm afraid I just added to it. But don't worry, you aren't likely to change into a dragon. Or at least any time soon."  
That comment earned him a sharp glance which he grinned at. He acted so much like Alistair... "I'm afraid I have another impertinent question."  
"This should be interesting. Please, go on, mother dear."  
She rubbed her forehead at his title for her, "If you're saying that blood isn't affecting how you're going to be... Why are you so much like Alistair?"  
"He's my father."  
She slanted another narrow eyed glance at him and wondered what spirit was messing with her. With a sigh he got to his feet and paced slowly back and forth. "Perhaps you can tell me about this ritual that made this little chat possible?"  
Urthemiel stopped his restless movements as he listened to what little Lana knew, hands clasped behind his back. "I'm not positive, since I've never heard of such a ritual, but I believe there was more of Alistair in my making than Morrigan. Physically at least. The blood shapes the body, the body helps shape the soul. It's why you're still mostly human, for all the things that have been done to you."  
He began the slow, methodical pacing. "He was the last thing you saw before your spirit fled here. The last thing in your thoughts. Your love for him has shaped your soul, which in turn shaped me when you gave up those pieces to me." He held up a hand to forestall her next question, "You haven't lost any of your memories. But you shared a few."  
Lana nodded, thinking over everything. She was slowly beginning to understand why she had trapped herself here. And suspected she trapped Urthemiel as well.  
"We're both caught here, aren't we?"  
"Not...quite. I'm here because I felt your distress and thought maybe I could help."  
She rubbed her forehead again, "Considering what I did to you, I'm quite frankly amazed that you feel that way."  
It was strange to be on the receiving end of that fierce look, "That was not me. That was a shell, twisted and corrupted. You can't imagine the pure agony that existence, being trapped in a corner of your own mind, unable to make your body listen to you. Having that foulness slithering through your mind and body, doing things you would never willingly do. What you did was painful, but not as bad as living was."  
After a moment's hesitation, "Do you know what caused the Taint and darkspawn?"  
He shook his head sadly, "I was asleep, dreaming of past days when we could soar the winds singing our joy. Teaching the strange two legged children our knowledge and crafts. I remember feeling a great sundering. But what it really was, I do not know. I do know that the dreams were more often nightmares than pleasant dreams."  
She nodded again. He looked at her oddly then said very reluctantly, "It's time that I get going, and long past time for you as well."  
"So any pithy suggestions?"  
"I'm afraid not, just that you'll know the way when its presented to you." He paused for a moment, then shyly asked, "Would it be all right for me to visit you in the future? If I can that is? I don't know what form I'll take..."  
It was oddly endearing to realize that even a being like Urthemiel, once a god, could have a hard time saying goodbye and going on with his life. Thought it was more than likely a bad idea to agree considering all the risks, Lana could see that he needed someone who understood even a little of the two worlds he was now a part of.  
Lana had to admit the truth of why she accepted such a thought to herself at least.  
The truth was, if she could give Alistair's son the emotional care she wanted him to have, she would want to be in the one in position to do so. She wasn't the best example of a human being, but she still knew what love was. And in the short time she spoke with Urthemiel, she found she had the capacity to add him to her heart the way she had all of her other unusual loved ones.  
After all, while he wasn't the son of her body, he was the son of her soul.  
She smiled warmly at him, "Of course."  
Lana stepped up and gently gave him a hug, wanting to show this newly ancient spirit that not all human touch, including hers despite what he said, didn't have to be painful. He froze, then slowly put his arms around her in a very brief hug. Then he stepped back with another thoughtful, and confused, look on his face.  
Another shy smile, then he was gone.  
She sat down on a bench to think over everything said, and what was only implied. So the slivers of her soul that had been sliced away were replaced by Urthemiel's. That should have been more disturbing than how she felt. Really, though, it wasn't the first time something had changed her.  
First she'd been made a Grey Warden, then trapped in the Fade where she'd been changed by those wells of energy she'd encountered. Not to mention handling the Ashes and drinking whatever was in the noisome brew made by Avernus to change what made her a Warden.  
Maker only knew what Flemeth may have done while Marlana was unconscious.  
So really, what difference did it make that the pieces carved away were replaced by pieces from a god? As far as she could tell, the ancient dragon made human was right. She was still herself. This was just one more piece of weirdness in her life.  
While she might never be able to forgive herself for the things that she'd done, and would likely have to do in the future. Might add on scars to the physical and spiritual ones that already existed. She was still Marlana Cousland, daughter to the deceased Teyrn Bryce and Teyrna Eleanor Cousland, sister to the lost Fergus. Friend to those whose life journeys had brought them into her's, even if eventually they would travel away. Beloved of Alistair Theirin.  
She looked at the shadows and light of what she was and found that, while she couldn't forgive herself, she could accept what she was. And strive to be the person everyone thought Marlana to be.  
Before her the wall melted away, revealing three paths in a dark wood. Curious, she got to her feet to study them. The one directly before her was clear of all obstruction and seemed like a smooth and easy to travel way.  
The path to her right reminded her of most of the back roads she'd traveled in Ferelden: poorly maintained, rutted and worn, but ultimately travelable. A person just had to mind where she put her feet, or her horse's hooves, if she didn't want to break an ankle. Or worse.  
To Marlana's left was a vague path, one overrun by brambles and the forest's undergrowth. It looked the most treacherous of the three ways.  
Without thinking about it, Marlana took the lefthand path. Because the best things in life were worth fighting for.  
It was also the only path that had a faint glimmer of light at the end.  
-oOo-  
Alistair sat beside the bed holding a cool hand as he watched the sleeping woman. He still told himself that she was deeply asleep, rather than something worse. It was hard though, but he couldn't give up on her. Not while she still breathed.  
But, oh Maker, this pale woman who looked like a sleeping princess in a minstrel's tale wasn't his Lana.  
"Alistair, I'm sorry to disturb you", came Teagan's hesitant voice at the doorway. The new Chancellor looked saddened as his kind eyes fell upon the young man.  
He sighed, "I hope I'm not too late."  
The older man shook his head, "No, you still have a few moments, but I wanted to let you know."  
"Thank you, Teagan."  
Teagan nodded and withdrew.  
With a shaky sigh, the big, blond man slowly got to his feet, then gently brushed his lips against hers, even though she still didn't respond to the gesture. "I hoped you would be there when I was crowned, love. That we could celebrate our victories privately later... Right now, I just want you to come back to me, Lana."  
He gently cupped his warm, calloused hand against her cool cheek, then gave in to a sudden impulse. One of the things he'd insisted on was keeping the rose he'd given her in a simple crystal vase on the stand by her bed, and had marveled at the fact she'd had it enchanted to keep it fresh and beautiful. Alistair carefully picked up the rose, lightly brushed the velvety petals against her mouth before placing the flower on the pillow beside her bed.  
Reluctantly, he started to walk away, then stopped when he realized just how dark the room was, even with all of the candles that were lit. He strode over to the windows and yanked away the curtains filling the room with the early morning sunlight.  
He briskly left the room, not letting himself look back for fear of his heart breaking. Trying not to grieve, he went to prepare for the coronation ceremony.  
Sunlight filled and warmed the silent room.  
A faint stirring came from the bed, where until now the only movement had been when one of the caretakers had shifted the sleeping woman so that she wouldn't develop bedsores.  
Bleary eyes slowly flickered open, then winced at the suddenly bright light.  
Lifting her face up into the light of the real world, Marlana Cousland smiled.


	40. Crowning Achievement

Clad in ceremonial plate of gold washed dragonbone, yet subtly different from the typical appearance of that exotic material, Alistair slowly made his way down the carpeted aisle to the dais where the Grand Cleric awaited him. Behind her a heavy gold circlet rested on a cushion upon the seat of the throne.  
There were quiet murmurs in his wake. Not just at the armor he chose to wear (except for a select few, the guests were unaware of how he flat out refused to wear Cailan's armor when that suggestion had been made), nor at the fact he bore the sword and shield of his father at his back. What truly caused the stir amongst those attending the event, was that while the new king had a serious demeanor, there was a spring in his step that hadn't been there before. Even more telling was that there was a light in his eyes that had not been in evidence for the past few weeks.  
Speculation ran like wildfire as people wondered if there was someone who managed to replace Marlana already. Those few Alistair called friend hoped that meant he had finally gotten some sort of good news since they knew as long as the unconscious Warden still drew breath, Alistair couldn't be drawn away from her.  
As he slowly ascended the steps, the whispers died away. The Grand Cleric approached Alistair as he knelt down on one knee with his head slightly bowed. She raised her hand in benediction above his head and chanted:  
" Blessed is the ruler who knows where to go, why to go there and how to get there.  
Blessed is the ruler who knows no discouragement, presents no excuse.  
Blessed is the ruler who knows how to lead without being tyrannical.  
Blessed is the ruler who leads for the good of the most concerned; not for personal gratification.  
Blessed is the ruler who develops leaders while leading.  
Blessed is the ruler with a head in the clouds, and feet on the ground.  
Blessed is the ruler who considers kingship an opportunity to serve.  
Thus you are charged, Alistair Theirin, in the name of the Maker and his bride Andraste who sacrificed herself in the holy flames, as king of Ferelden. May you always have light in the darkness."  
He stood when she finished her blessing and charge to him as king. As the two bowed to one another, Teagan Guerrin carefully picked up the crown off the throne where he had been standing in attendance and gravely walked over to Alistair. The two men bowed to each other, Alistair holding his position so that Teagan could place the crown upon the new monarch's brow. Straightening, the younger man gave his Chancellor and adoptive uncle a small smile at the older man's look of pride.  
Crowned, Alistair turned to the crowd of nobles and raised his hand in greeting. Before he could say anything, they erupted into cheers. The loudest of which came from his friends and companions who had traveled and fought with him and Marlana in their efforts to stop the Blight. And to stop Ferelden from tearing itself apart.  
Once the crowd settled down, he gave them a surprisingly easy smile, "I'm sure everyone is expecting some long boring speech about my plans as king. Well, you're all going to be spared that today due to some new circumstances. Though I'd like to believe that my intended speech was neither long, nor boring."  
He gave a sly grin at the ripple of laughter. Then shifted his gaze to the side, nodded slightly as he extended his hand. A sudden hush fell as a familiar form clad in her now well known black leather and silverite chain armor came out of the shadows to the side of the dais. Her long silver hair was bound up in bright red and gold ribbons, though a little gaunt in the face, none could mistake the radiant expression on Marlana Cousland's face as she glided up to Alistair and placed her hand in his.  
There was a sudden disturbance as someone collapsed in the audience, but the vigilant guards signaled they were on it. Alistair drew the attention back to him with a not very delicate cough, "To all who are gathered here, I present to you, Marlana Cousland. The acclaimed Hero of Ferelden who has given me the honor of becoming my betrothed and your future queen."  
It was Leliana who broke the shocked, and in some cases horrified, silence as she yelled out, "Marlana!"  
Dark sapphire eyes turned brilliant with her smile at Leli, even as their owner considered what she was going to do to her beloved for saddling her with such a title. She raised her free hand in greeting, an unconsciously similar gesture to Alistair's, causing a hesitant applause that soon turned to raucous cheering from the encouragement of their companions.  
And one of Marlana's ghosts. She was very proud that she managed to maintain her self-control at the sight of her long dead brother. Privately she didn't understand why he was cheering for her so happily. Wouldn't he be angry at her for not protecting his wife and son like she promised? And why was he wearing bright silverite plate instead of his preferred red iron chain?  
Eventually those gathered quieted again and Alistair turned towards Lana, "In light of your actions in saving us all," his voice softened and became somewhat husky,"and as an engagement present," then went back to being brisk,"I would give you any boon of your choice."  
Having just returned to consciousness in time to see Alistair for a few brief moments before the ceremony, Marlana blinked at him, " I'm flattered, but there really isn't anything I want."  
He frowned at her, "Truly?" The frown shifted to a smirk, "I know I'm quite the catch, but surely there's something I can give you."  
Lana stared at him, she'd only just returned to herself only a short time before, the last thing on her mind was a boon of any sort. Really, the only thing she could think of was to make sure Highever was restored to her family and they'd already discussed that long before he was even made king by the Landsmeet.  
"Let me think about it?" She asked a little faintly.  
"Of course. Provided I don't think of something suitable later." He smiled warmly at her causing another round of quiet murmuring. It was well known that the two were involved, but those who didn't know them weren't aware that the stories of their love were real. If anything, the tales didn't do justice to what was between the new king and his intended. Those who had supported them in the Landsmeet were pleased to see that they were still unified. Those who had a more romantic bent thought they were watching a fairytale come to life, forgetting that the real fairytales, much like real stories, rarely end in true happiness.  
Those who muttered amongst themselves the most over the relationship between the two were terrified that Bryce Cousland's fierce daughter was to be their future queen. It wasn't just from how she had terrified would be suitors, and their families, but how she had dealt with Howe and Loghain.  
Then there were those whose families always feared what would happen should the two most powerful families in Ferelden unite in marriage. They hadn't precisely celebrated the fall of Highever, since Bryce had been well liked in addition to being respected, but they had feared the Cousland influence first on Maric then on Cailan. Those mutters agreed that this was a conversation for another time in a more secure place.  
Alistair returned his attention back to the audience, carefully ignoring the mutters. "Finally, let it be known that the Arling of Amaranthine, once the lands of Arl Rendon Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, following the example of those who went before them."  
The murmurs grew louder. It was fitting for the treachery of the Howes that they lose their lands. But to give it to the Wardens... The implications were disturbing. But would be discussed in similar surroundings to the ones held about the coming wedding.  
Finally the ceremony ended. With a smile, Alistair extended his hand to his lady and the two slowly descended the stairs together. Lana commented quietly, "Nice armor, it looks like dragonbone, but seems...different."  
He grinned, "It's not quite dragonbone."  
She blinked, "It's..." She couldn't quite bring herself to say the word.  
"Yes, it's archdemon bone. Wade was rapturous in being the first smith in four hundred years to work with the stuff. From what I was told, Herrin actually smiled when he accepted the commission. Thankfully he either didn't remember who I am in relation to you, or the thought of a royal commission was enough to make him get over his annoyance."  
Remembering the debacle with the drake and dragon scale armor, where Herrin banned them from his shop for taking up so much of Wade's time, Lana couldn't help but grin. Before she could say anything, their companions surrounded them.  
There were tearful hugs with Leliana and Wynne, followed up with a staggering backslap from Oghren, "Good to see you back on yer feet, Lana. Got somethin' special fer you an yer man later."  
Alistair exchanged an uneasy glance with Lana before she said faintly, "Thank you. I think."  
The dwarf smirked then chortled before wandering off muttering, "Need to see if Teagan finally found that barrel of pickle juice he's been promising."  
At Lana's bemused expression, Zev shook his head, "You do not want to know, my friend. Sadly, they made that bet before either was drunk."  
The handsome elf smiled warmly, "Ah, but enough of that! It is very good to have you back." His smile turned sly, "Your templar has been moping something fierce."  
"You are terrible, Zevran!" Leliana exclaimed, smacking the elf in the shoulder. "You'd be proud of Alistair, Lana."  
Blushing furiously, Alistair mumbled, "I'm standing right here, you know."  
Lana shook her head as the three amiably squabbled about something from the night before about who could hold their drink or not. As they did so Sten made his way up to her. Silent, the Qunari warrior studied her then actually smiled, "Kadan."  
The return smile warmed her eyes, they hadn't always agreed on how things should be handled, but in the end they had come to respect one another, "Sten."  
"I am glad to see you before I left."  
She tried not to show her sorrow and dismay, already the people she'd come to see as an adoptive family were leaving her. She'd known once the Blight was over, they'd start going their separate ways, but so soon...  
Lana slanted a mischievous glance his way, "I don't suppose there's enough cookies in Ferelden for me to bribe you into staying for the wedding at least?"  
Another of those rare smiles and the purple eyes actually looked saddened, "I'm sorry, Marlana, but there are duties I've let go for too long."  
She nodded, duty was probably one of the few things they could agree on, even if they went about it differently, "I understand, it was an honor to have gotten to know you, Sten."  
"My ship does not leave for another few days, besides Alistair said something about a party. One with cake, unlike this one."  
Sweet, silvery laughter, a sound they all never thought they'd hear again, erupted as Lana couldn't hold in her reaction to his indignation to the lack of cake. Heads turned in their direction as those nearest the group wondered what the terribly cold Qunari could have said to make her laugh. None of them hid the fact they were all collectively terrified of the giant. That he proved to have a sense of humor was even more terrifying, not less.  
A grating voice boomed out, "Marlana!" Feeling as stunned as Sten appeared, she turned to face a grinning Shale. She didn't think the golem even remembered her name, the closest use to her name was the fact sometimes she was called Warden.  
She eyed the golem somewhat warily, "Hello Shale."  
Then she grinned back, "I'm sure you're disappointed that you still have this annoying flesh creature around."  
"Hmph. You're not too bad for a flesh creature. I am... glad that you weren't eaten."  
That Shale used her name and said you, not it concerned Lana, "Are you all right?"  
"Fine, fine. As hard as it is for me to say it, it is good to see you again."  
Shale nodded awkwardly at her then stomped off muttering about watching the dwarf get turned into a pickle.  
Lana shook her head then looked up at Alistair came up to her looking unusually serious, "In all the excitement I forgot that there's someone you would want to see."  
The others went silent, then Leliana asked softly, "Oh... She still doesn't know?"  
"Know what? I came back to myself just in time to catch Alistair before the ceremony. There's been no time for anyone to bring me up to date over what happened the last few days..." She trailed off with a frown at the way everyone was looking at her. "It was days, right?"  
One gauntleted hand gently gripped her shoulder, "No, love. It's been almost three weeks."  
Swallowing, she refused to let herself feel faint, "Weeks." She shook herself slightly, "Well, that explains the reactions."  
Wynne said briskly, "We'll still be here later, the person she needs to see now is more important."  
Alistair nodded his agreement and led a mystified Lana away. "Alistair, what's going on? Who is that I need to meet so urgently?"  
He sucked in his breath and let it out slowly, but not slowing down or stopping, "The Teyrn of Highever."  
That hurt more than words could say. Not that she wanted to rule Highever, but she'd hope that she'd get some say in the new ruler of her family's lands.  
Not needing to see her face to know that she was hurting, Alistair gently squeezed her shoulder, "You'll understand in a moment. And I have it on good authority that you'll like him."  
The crowd parted for them as they went to the opposite side of the large chamber. Some part of Lana's mind was absurdly grateful that there were no signs of Loghain's bloodstains on the floor.  
Instead, the ghost she'd seen earlier waited for her with a sad, yet proud smile.  
Anguish ripped through her, wondering why she'd returned from the Fade after all, she asked hoarsely, "What kind of sick joke is this, Alistair?"  
He shifted his position so that he could put both hands on her shoulders to keep her moving with gentle, but insistent, pressure towards the last spirit of those she lost. And failed. The one with the most to blame her for. Alistair's voice was gentle, full of understanding,"It's no joke, my love. Fergus is alive and well. May I introduce the new Teyrn of Highever?"  
By then she'd been inexorability propelled close enough for Fergus to reach his hands out to her, "I'm as alive and real as Alistair, little sister."  
Tears pouring down her face, Marlana clasped her hands over her mouth, hesitatingly approaching her brother, though not being as forcefully pushed by Alistair. Rather he'd pulled one hand away while sliding one down to the middle of her shoulders offering silent support. Then gave her a much needed push.  
Seeing Lana in so much emotional pain was difficult for Alistair, but he was determined to make sure this reunion went through. He knew too well how badly she reacted when unprepared for things related to her family. He felt like kicking himself for the way this had been handled. But when she'd just popped up in the room where he'd been getting ready for his coronation, all thought had fled in the face of one thing.  
Lana was awake and aware. And she'd gone looking for him.  
Though he hated to do it, he'd used his training and abilities as a templar to make sure that Lana was still herself. His knees had gone a little weak in relief when he didn't detect any o f the telltale signs. Neither did he miss the relief in those glorious eyes when she realized what he'd done.  
The brief, but very intense, kiss they shared had only confirmed that she was still the woman he loved.  
Shaking his head to clear it, Alistair finally pushed her close enough for Fergus to be able to reach out and touch his sister to prove he was indeed very much alive.  
With a small cry, not caring that she was in a room full of gossipy nobles, Lana flung herself into her brother's arms. Feeling tears threatening to emerge, he nodded briskly to the older Cousland, "I'll leave the two of you be for now."  
That caused Lana to life her head up to look up at Alistair, eyes nearly black in distress," You don't -"  
He smiled warmly, "I'll have you all to myself later."  
The way her eyes lit up with her own smiled warmed him in other ways and made him glad that he was wearing armor for this. Fergus gave them a sharp look, but didn't say anything. Another nod and he walked off to start the dreaded mingling.  
Seeing the two siblings together finally drove home to Alistair why Lana had reacted the way she had to Goldanna. Not that either one expected the kind of reception Fergus gave to his sister, but there'd been an unspoken hope that a relationship like that would develop. Instead the woman turned out to be a money grubbing shrew. He still felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that his careful inquiries still hadn't turned up any sign of the woman or her children.  
Money grubbing shrew, or not, she was still family and he'd been part of the cause of why she'd had such a rough life after the loss of their mother.  
Teagan seemingly materialized at his side as he started the dreaded mingling, Alistair realized there was a balm to the achingly empty feeling he had when it came to family. Fergus was proving to be the brother he'd always wanted, and not just because of Lana. An unexpected feeling of kinship and friendship had clicked between the two the night Fergus arrived and the two began to talk. While initially Fergus had been willing to hear him out for the sake of his sister, by the time they'd finished talking, it felt as if they were brothers.  
Part of it had been the fact they had a similar sense of humor, which explained why Lana had gotten his humor so quickly. Something he wished more of the nobles shared as a joke fell flat with a rather stuffy bann and his wife. "Don't mind them," Teagan muttered as the two walked away huffily as Alistair shook his head in bafflement, "They've always been like that. Even Eamon would needle them from to time."  
Maybe part of it was the fact both Fergus and Alistair were thrust into roles they neither wanted, nor were prepared to take. While the Teyrn was his father's heir and raised as such, Bryce had been a very healthy, active man who should have had many more years of rule before passing the teyrnir on to his son. Whatever the real reason may have been, he'd given up trying to puzzle it out, but was grateful that he'd been accepted rather than challenged over his relationship with Lana.  
"You really do love him, don't you?" Fergus asked quietly as he patted his sister's hair, comforting them both.  
She sniffed as she drew back to glower up at him, "We haven't seen each other for over a year. In fact I thought you were dead and came to haunt me. And the first thing you ask me is if I'm in love with Alistair?"  
Fergus fished out a handkerchief and handed it to her. Having been on the receiving end of some rather revolting ones from her brother in the past, she inspected it carefully to her brother's amusement. Finding a clean corner, she used it to wipe her eyes before returning it to its owner. That didn't soften the glower any.  
"Well, it wasn't the very first thing I said." He grinned at her expression, it was so typical of his fiery little sister that it told him everything he needed to know. After saying so, he was very glad that he was wearing armor when she socked him in the shoulder. She was much stronger than he remembered, which sobered him since it reminded him just why she would be.  
She looked away at the change in his expression, misunderstanding the cause, "I'm sorry, Fergus. I'm gotten used to Alistair's tough hide and the fact he wears that ridiculously heavy plate."  
"You didn't hurt me, just surprised me at how strong you've gotten. And me realizing why."  
Lana's shoulders sagged, "How much has Alistair told you?"  
"Everything that doesn't fall under the infamous Grey Warden secrets."  
"Yes, well", she smiled wryly, "they're secrets for good reason."  
A loud gurgle from her stomach at the smell of food being laid out for the reception interrupted Fergus's response. Instead he snickered at her mortified oath. He said amusedly, "That little secret about Wardens and their appetites is a bit more well known after the palace staff had to feed Alistair and you, Lana. Apparently someone unconscious shouldn't need so much to eat."  
He eyed her critically, "You could still stand to be fattened up a bit. Ah, ah, no hitting. I'm still fragile."  
Sapphire eyes narrowed as she appraised him until an even louder growl was heard. "Andraste's sacred ass", she grumbled.  
Laughing, Fergus placed his hand in the middle of her back to start guiding her towards the food. "You've always been cranky when hungry. Let's get something for you to gnaw on instead of me."  
Neither sibling said anything as Alistair fell in on the other side of Lana with a slightly possessive air. Fergus smiled a little to himself at the way her eyes lit up at the sight of her betrothed, though there was more than a touch of sorrow. It made him miss his wife and son with a desperate ache. He'd been lucky with Oriana, that when her family came to Highever as part of a diplomatic visit to Ferelden, that they'd fallen for one another during that time. Fortunately, both families approved of the match.  
Unfortunately for Fergus's new bride, Lana proved to be something of a horror. Not that the youngest Cousland was rude, far from it. But the fact that Lana was a tomboy who had to be either coerced or bribed into wearing anything remotely relating to a dress was something that the fairly pampered Antivan noblewoman was completely unaccustomed to. But she'd eventually won her sister-by-marriage over by her charm, wit and endless questions about what life had been like in Antiva.  
He knew their father had always hoped for a suitable love match for his fierce daughter. Which is why he didn't say anything about Lana's tendency to scare off suitors. In fact, Bryce had secretly approved, since he figured that if a young man was strong enough to stand up to Marlana, he was strong enough to stand up for anything. He cast a thoughtful look in Alistair's direction. Granted he didn't know his new king for long, but under the surface glibness, there was a great deal of strength.  
If he fell for Lana and wasn't scared off, he'd have to be both strong and incredibly brave. Or just flat out stupid, but he knew his sister would never put up with stupid.  
Fergus's thoughts were interrupted as a servant politely informed them of the table that had been setup for the new king and his guests. Not surprisingly Alistair was seated in the middle with Lana to his left, Fergus to her left and Teagan to Alistair's right. There were some eyebrows raised at that arrangement, but Lana had made up her mind about where people were going to seat when she half-jokingly said, "Teagan is Alistair's right hand. I'm his left."  
That the left hand had always been considered the "sinister" hand made him wonder just what his sister had been up to during the Blight. Of course seeing that she somehow had gotten a Crow and an Orlesian bard in her followers still amazed him.  
He freely admitted to himself he was more than a little worried about what she might have learned from the two.  
However, the small groups of nobles that came and went to great not just their new monarch, but the other two new powers in the country helped distract him from his melancholy. Though his somber mood didn't escape Lana's knowing sapphire eyes, even if she didn't comment on it. Not much got past her, such as how the various nobles reacted to her. Alistair and Fergus were greeted cordially, the first because he was laying on the charm as thick as possible, the later because he was a known quantity after going to the Landsmeet with his father for all these years. Teagan was greeted cheerfully, most of the nobility liked the quiet and unassuming man with the droll sense of humor.  
Marlana...they treated her very carefully. At first he was confused by that, or the dark glitter of slightly malicious amusement in her eyes. Then he remembered that she'd very easily defeated Loghain in a duel in this chamber and had persuaded near unanimous agreement amongst the nobles who had gathered for the Landsmeet that made Alistair king. Those that spoke with her easily either hadn't been at the momentous event, or had been her full supporters.  
In between the groups of nobles, Lana quietly asked, "Is there a reason why Eamon has been acting like a cat in a room full of mabari whenever I look in his direction?"  
She'd been watching the man hovering in the distance, but every time he caught a look at her, he'd pale and walk away. Her question caused a collective coughing fit between the three men. Their reaction caused her eyes to narrow in annoyance. They narrowed even more when Alistair and Teagan had a quiet conference.  
Alistair sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Forgive me, love, but try not to get too angry."  
"Go on", she said too calmly, but she continued to neatly eat the remainder of the rather sizable helping she'd been given.  
"Er, right, well then", when his mouth compressed into a thin angry line, she watched him thoughtfully. "He wanted to kill you."  
That seemed a bit much, even for Eamon. Her silver-white brows flew up in surprise, "Excuse me?"  
In quietly hissed words, Alistair quietly explained, in between more cautious well wishers, how Eamon didn't want to give her a chance to see if she could survive. How he refused to accept that magic wasn't sustaining her. He also grumbled about the Arl withholding information being the last straw after the fights over Lana's fate. She nodded thoughtfully, so that would explain Teagan as chancellor. A wicked light gleamed in her eyes, "Maybe I should go speak him, if only to see how Isolde and Connor are faring."  
Rather than let Alistair answer, Fergus said, "Since you've finished eating, let's go terrorize the nobles with the fact you're going to be the future queen so the rest can have their moment of glory by speaking to the new king in peace. And maybe, if you don't scare them too badly, I'll let you go terrorize Eamon."  
She considered it for a moment then nodded her assent. The two siblings got to their feet, bowed to Alistair, though in Lana's case it was more to rile him up since he couldn't really yell at her for doing so at that moment. The look in his eyes promised "revenge" later. As they wandered off, Lana accepting her brother's arm as her escort, the two men remaining at the table weren't surprised to see Eamon Guerrin as their first victim. Who looked ready to faint. Again. Since he'd been the one to collapse when Lana appeared at the ceremony.  
Despite claiming that it would be a reward for being good, Alistair figured that Fergus wasn't above some petty revenge for the problems the Arl had caused the Teyrn's younger sister.  
Once he was positive Lana was out of earshot, Teagan heaved a sigh, "Maker's breath, but I'm glad they're on our side."  
Since the nobles seemed more interested in mingling amongst themselves while eating while beginning their usual political maneuverings. If not availing themselves of the rest of the tables and chairs set out for those who wanted to rest their feet, Alistair leaned back in his seat, "Regretting becoming chancellor yet? You know you'll be dealing with Lana on a daily basis."  
"I probably should, but the truth is, she'll keep things interesting at least."  
Alistair laughed, the infectious sound causing those nearby to smile in return, "Oh, you're going to regret that. You are aware that there's a curse that says 'May you live in interesting times', right?"  
"Hm, perhaps you have a point", Teagan mock-considered the situation, then shrugged, "Just means I'll have to be more on my toes than I originally anticipated."  
With a sigh, Alistair finally stood, reluctantly ready to resume the polite chitchat, hating the formal event, and feeling like he was swimming in a pool full of sea monsters. As a minor noble blathered on at him (he remembered Lana's first lesson of dealing with the nobility very well. "Just give them a small smile, give vague answers, nod every so often and whatever you do, do not make any promises"), he decided he was indeed a bad, bad man for hoping that Lana would make this...interesting.  
As if his thought had conjured it, he heard a faint ruckus off to the side which lead to a shocked silence. So he could very clearly hear Marlana's voice, the tone that could make even Alistair nervous, full of cold menace say, "You will unhand that girl."  
Vaughan Kendells's normally smooth voice was slurred as he snarled, "Why? The little knife eared bitch was begging for a man to take care of her."  
Alistair started to run, hoping that he would get there in time before Marlana gutted the pig. Not that he didn't deserve it from the rumors he'd heard, but he didn't really want her to kill another noble in front of the rest. Especially in this particular chamber of the palace. He mentally cursed out the men who were supposed to keep the cretin under wraps. Fortunately, the loud clatter of his armor alerted people to move so he didn't have to shove his way through.  
Grateful at the lack of blood, or hysterically screaming people, Alistair finally made his way through the slowly growing number of people to where Lana had subdued Vaughan. The disgustingly drunken lord was flat on his stomach, one arm twisted up behind him and one of Marlana's booted feet on the back of his neck. Thank the Maker for small favors, she hadn't drawn even one of the dagger he knew she kept secreted on herself.  
In that cool voice she was calmly explaining how he should be conducting himself around females of any race, age or station. Anytime he started to protest, "But she's just a knife ear!" Lana did something, he'd yelp in pain then fall silent. Bracing himself for the worst, Alistair surveyed those gathered for the drama. A majority of the men had looks of nervous approval. The women... their eyes glittered with an angry satisfaction.  
A quiet sob drew his attention to where Wynne was gently tending to one of the young, elven women that worked in the kitchen. The girl was clearly scared, her top was ripped open and one cheek had a massive handprint that was already turning purple from bruising. The sight caused a red haze to film over his vision and he had to take a moment to calm himself down. One, very small, sane part of his mind marveled over the fact Lana hadn't gutted the ass.  
Vaughan realized that someone who had authority over the madwoman, smiled ingratiatingly up at Alistair, "Ah, Your Majesty, finally a man who'll understand-"  
"Understand what?" The king asked furiously. "That you think you can abuse the people who for me?"  
"It's just an elven bitch, what's the problem?", was the sneering reply.  
Wynne spoke, not disguising her fury, "Fortunately, there hasn't been any lasting physical harm, Your Majesty."  
Trying to control his temper, Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose, "Vaughan this is your first and only warning. You're going to pay restitution to that girl you just assaulted and are banned from the palace unless I personally invite you. And Maker help you if I learn you've done the same to any other woman, human or not. If you do, I'll let Marlana do whatever she wants to you."  
Lana nodded, her face still a deceptive mask of calm, though the frozen blue eyes said otherwise as she dropped Vaughan's arm so he could get up. His two ever present cronies hustled him out of the palace before he could get himself into any further trouble. The former templar noted the men for the future and knew Lana was doing the same. There were concerned male voices quietly discussing the situation, but the women present bore down on a startled Marlana. He couldn't hear what was being said, but he could hear the overall approval.  
"You did very well with that, Alistair", Teagan said quietly. "And those women who are talking with Lana are either minor banns, or some relation to one. I suspect they may have had...problems with the Arl in the past. But no one has stepped up to say anything. Probably out of fear of reprisal."  
Alistair nodded tightly, still trying to regain control over his temper. "I just wish I'd dare do more, but I don't have the proof. And I'm not going to start off as a tyrant."  
"Maker's breath, I always knew Kendells could be an idiot, but I didn't realize just how much of an idiot until today", came Fergus's disgusted comment behind them. Teagan quietly excused himself to get a feel for the tone of the nobles about the incident, leaving Alistair in Fergus's hands.  
The big man scowled, but not at his future brother in law, "I'm guessing Lana saw what happened and acted in her usual decisive manner?"  
"I'm not sure what happened. One moment she was catching up with Rowena, daughter of Bann Liam, and an old friend, the next she was gone. Alistair, what happened to her? She's always been fast, but the speed she moved..."  
"Not here Fergus, and it's still her tale to tell." He couldn't exactly explain what happened in the Fade or Avernus's brew, or at least he wouldn't without Lana's permission. He also didn't know if the archdemon's blood had any effect on her or not, though her odd Taint hadn't changed any. Records were scarce about what the blood may have done to any Grey Wardens that got soaked in the stuff. Then there was the ritual and what side effects there may be from that. He may have...participated in the... setup as it were with Morrigan. It was Lana who completed it and had the spirit of the corrupted god pass through her.  
He felt a pang of regret for the harsh words he'd said to Morrigan that awful day. Now, it was obvious that the ritual did work. With that regret came the wish of being able to actually apologize and the hope that where ever she was, the witch would know that her friend was alive and well. He still didn't like Morrigan, but he had come to understand that there really was a bond of friendship between the two women.  
Fergus nodded unhappily. One of the guards slipped up to them. He saluted and spoke quietly for only the two to hear, "Sire, you have my apologies about Lord Vaughan."  
Alistair waved it off, "Not your fault unless you were the one getting him drunk."  
"Thank you, Your Majesty. There's one thing though, ser."  
An eyebrow went up, "And that is?"  
"Crowds are gathering outside. Word's spread that Lady Cousland is awake. The people would like to see their Hero for themselves."  
Beside him, he could hear Fergus snort in the effort to not laugh. No one had to tell her brother how Lana had reacted to being called a hero. He sighed. Of course they would want to see her. Even before she finished off the archdemon, Lana had been building a reputation in Denerim. First with the work with the guard while organizing the expedition to Haven, then after the events in the Alienage... While many her fellow nobles were not pleased with her, the common people loved her.  
But he was more than a bit biased having fallen for her himself and couldn't help but agree with them.  
"I don't suppose we have enough men prepared to act as an escort?"  
"Actually," the guard shifted uncomfortably, "Chamberlain Baldwin did have a plan if something like this occurred."  
He wondered if Cailan appreciated the amazing people on the palace staff when he was alive. Probably not, all things considered. "Maker bless him. How much time does he need?"  
The guard shifted his weight again, causing the eyebrow to go up questioningly again.  
"Um, well, Your Majesty, he started getting everything ready for the procession when you called upon her ladyship during the ceremony."  
Alistair smiled approvingly, "All right, I'll go get her. Just wait right here."  
With a salute, the guard settled at attention to wait for his liege. It took all of Alistair's discipline to be able to bring himself to go through the small crowd of women to get to Lana. Putting all of his charm into his smile, he said, "If you'll excuse us ladies, my betrothed's adoring public wants to see their hero."  
There was silence for a moment, then in a flurry the women curtsied and excused themselves. Lana gave him a wary look, torn between gratitude at being rescued, and annoyance at being called a hero. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but weren't you laying it on a bit thick there, love?"  
"Nope. Your adoring public really does want to see the Hero of Ferelden."  
She grimaced, "You know how I feel about being called a hero."  
Not allowing her stall any further, Alistair draped an arm around her shoulders, still not caring how the nobles might perceive his relationship with Lana, "This is all on you, m'dear."  
"Uh huh."  
He grinned, "I'm not the one who scaled the sodding big dragon to drive a pair of swords into its eyes. Survive the fall when one of said swords shattered. Which, by the way, Mikhail Dryden is very put out about what happened to Starfang."  
She winced and he continued, "Then, not content to remain where you landed like a smart, rational woman, you hauled yourself to your feet, grabbed another sword that's longer than you are tall. Proceeded to shove the blade into the head of the dragon you'd just blinded to finish it off. If that isn't the antics of a hero, I don't know what is."  
Lana winced again, both at his words and the dry tone he said them in. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."  
"Hmm. Yes, well, it wasn't just the archdemon either, that was just the most impressive actions. Not to mention the most public. Sergeant, now Guard Captain, Kylon has been vocal about what you'd done to help get rid of the scum plaguing some of the poorer quarters of Denerim. The elves in the Alienage are still not sure what to make of you. But that loud mouth Shianni and Elder Valendrian have praised you over the fact you saved the Alienage twice in one month. Then there's Banns Alfstanna and Sighard joining in that praise for saving their family members. And the Chantry for that poor madman you found in Howe's dungeons, apparently there'd been friends of his trying to find the poor sod."  
As he recited all of her "heroic actions", he continued to firmly move her along, letting the guard guide them to their destination where her escort awaited her.  
She licked her lips a little nervously, "I never said I did any of that alone. The rest of you should be included in those accolades."  
He laughed, "Oh, my dear lady, we're your loyal friends and companions like any hero should have. But you were the one who led us, who made the tough decisions and stuck with them. Despite what you may think, every time someone drew the line, you stepped up to it and challenged it. And the idiots who got in your way."  
She squirmed, or tried to.  
"Andraste's flaming sword! The only thing I'm upset about is the risks you'd taken."  
"Alistair... I tried to be more cautious, but..."  
He hugged her to him, slowing their pace as he did so, "I know, you can't change your instincts. And while I would like you to be more careful, I don't want you to change because then you wouldn't be my Marlana."  
She relaxed and slid one arm around his waist, "I don't suppose I can get out of this?"  
"It was the people who named you the Hero of Ferelden."  
"Oh", she said faintly. "I hope they aren't expecting any speeches."  
He chuckled, "Nope, just smile and wave."  
"Well, I guess I can handle that."  
They arrived at a side entrance where a squad of guards in very shiny and ornate armor awaited her. Just outside the open door they could see an open carriage that was drawn by a pair of matching white horses. It wasn't odd to see the banner with the insignia of House Theirin, but someone scrounged up one for House Cousland as well and had them prominently displayed on the sides of the carriage. Lana couldn't help but shake her head at the sight.  
Alistair dropped a light kiss on her head, "I'll see you later."  
Reluctantly, she pulled away, but gave him a quick kiss before fully separating from his side.  
Head held high, refusing to show just how nervous the whole thing was making her, Marlana calmly walked up to the waiting honor guard. Alistair smiled a little as she walked out into the bright sunlight of the warm, late spring afternoon and she lifted her face up a little with her eyes closed to enjoy the feel.  
He remembered how she'd done the same after they left the Tower once Uldred's rebellion had been put down. Even in the throws of her depression from the Temple, she'd done the same, if only reflexively. He watched her get handed up into the carriage and recalled how she had stood for a good time enjoying the sun once they were done with the horrors of the Deep Roads. It'd been an excuse for Oghren to try and get his bearings, but he knew it was her way of giving thanks for being alive and surviving one more nightmare.  
Alone, except for a discrete guard, Alistair Theirin, reluctant king, lifted his face up into the warm sunlight that felt like a benediction and gave his own silent thanks.


	41. Horribly Awkward

They lay curled up together in bed, her back against his chest, his chin gently resting on the top of her head, his arms wrapped around her and her hands on his. They were covered only by a light sheet and the mantle of her long silver-white hair. He was starting to doze, exhausted from the coronation, the far too exciting reception after, and the small party they had with their companions when Lana's procession ended. Lana's sigh made Alistair open one eye slightly and mumble, "What?"  
"Alistair, we need to talk."  
It wasn't so much the words, though they were worrisome, but the unhappiness and fear in her voice. That woke him up, the only time she sounded like that was when she had something to say she thought he wouldn't like.  
Unfortunately, that often proved true.  
Somewhat crankily he asked, "Why couldn't we talk earlier? Or let it wait until morning?"  
"I tried, but you distracted me", Lana responded just as grumpily.  
"Well...that is true." Once all the "festivities" were over, he'd practically carried her off to his rooms, desperate to have some time alone. He had intended to just talk with her, but seeing her in that simply elegant, ruby red gown that made her seem even more exotic than usual, had diverted him from actually talking. He'd been more than a bit amused at the fact she'd changed into a dress after the ceremony, until he learned that Leliana had made a rather pointed comment about a dressing room full of clothing just for Lana in her new position. He couldn't hide his amusement at her choice of clothing at that point.  
Seeing Lana in that dress had caused his body to ardently remind him that it had been too long since they'd made love. That act of desperation the final night they were in Redcliffe didn't count since it had been more a release of tension, not to mention purging his body of Morrigan's evil, witchy brew, than an act of love. To give her credit, Lana had tried to talk him at first, and he had promised later.  
Of course, Lana being the type of person she was, she'd made sure later really was later and not some indefinite time in the future. It was his turn to sigh, "So what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"  
"Because other things will come up and I won't have a chance to talk with you and if this is put off too long, it more than likely will come back to bite me in the ass. Hm, or maybe or both of us. More likely both of us."  
He grunted, since she was quite likely right. "Fair enough." Trying for a lighter approach, he joked, "What is it? Rats running amok? Cheese supplies running low? Morrigan decided to stick around with my half-demon baby?"  
Not really thinking about it, she said, "He's not demonic."  
Alistair woke up fully and tried to really think over what she said. But his mind kept wanting to run around in circles gibbering. But that was not terribly kingly and not very unmanly. He coughed, "I think you need to start at the beginning."  
Lana drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, not wanting to rush her, Alistair just cradled her. Drawing reassurance at the fact she was there to be held. Reminding himself that he'd watched her most of the day, that her brother and their friends had as well. All agreed that she was herself as she spun her tale of her time spent in the Fade, supposedly trapped by herself because she couldn't come to terms with what had happened.  
Were it anyone else, he'd suspect that they'd been trapped by something else in the Fade. But that she trapped herself while trying to come to terms with everything was so typical of Lana. Much like the fact she'd shown up at his coronation wearing her armor since it never occurred to her to go looking for anything else once she spotted something familiar in an unfamiliar surrounding. Besides there were two things that stood out in his mind.  
The first was that, even in the Fade, she hadn't run from him, as she had promised that awful, long ago day when he realized just how deep the shadows of his heart really were. Had in fact run towards him. Even though she didn't come out and say it, Lana had remembered their promise made that horrible night in Redcliffe and hadn't given up.  
If anything, she seemed to think that hearing his voice helped save her from herself. Alistair wondered if the spirits she'd encountered really were her loved ones. Though considering how demons reacted towards her, he figured that if the spirits were something else, they had to be the benevolent spirits, drawn to help ease a soul in pain. He hoped that they were her family though, so she could finally get some measure of peace on that score.  
The second thing was even more difficult. He had a son. A son he'd never get to see, or hold, or raise. To be a father to. And that hurt more than he thought. Yet in that hurt was some hope. His son, for all that the soul of that child had started off as something else, called Marlana his mother and not Morrigan. Alistair didn't know if that would hold true once Urthemiel was born and Morrigan started raising him, but there was that faint splinter of hope. Particularly if he did visit Lana when he could.  
Though that was another source of pain. That his son didn't want to visit him. But it was a familiar pain in a way when it came to family, so he put to it to the side since he had other things to think of.  
When Alistair remained silent for so long, Lana began to worry. He hadn't exactly let go, but his embrace had loosened. Then he gently withdrew his left hand and began to absently run his hand along the lines of her body. It wasn't unusual for him to do that, but this was more like when he was checking her for injuries, not an act of intimacy. Baffled, she finally asked, "Alistair, what are you doing?"  
He grinned, while she couldn't see it, she could hear it in his voice, "Just checking."  
"Checking for what exactly?"  
She could feel him smirking as he brushed his lips against her cheek as he put his hand over hers to pull against him again. His voice held a hint of laughter, "No scales, claws or fangs? No wings? What kind of dragon are you anyway?"  
Held against him the way she was she couldn't smack him, so she settled for grumpily saying, "I'm not a dragon."  
"Hm, I suppose not." She felt his smirk broaden into that boyish grin that always undid her, "Though I always did wonder how you managed to breathe fire without being one."  
"Alistair!"  
His laughter loosened his grip enough for her to roll over to glare at him. Once he calmed down, he ran a calloused fingertip along her cheek, his demeanor slowly sobering. "What else can I do or say, Lana? You paid another price, a high one. It's not right or fair that you keep being the one to shoulder these things."  
Unable to face him, she rolled away and on to her other side. "Would you have been willing to pay the price?"  
Alistair was quiet for a moment before somberly saying, "I would like to think so."  
She was quiet for a moment, "You paid your part, Alistair. It was only right that I paid a price as well." Her throat closed and she couldn't help saying what had been on her mind the entire time, "He should be ours."  
Alistair gently tugged her shoulder to pull her back to him. Instead she shifted to laying on her back to look up at him. He began to caress her face with the back of his hand, "Yes, he should be, but he isn't." Trying not be to be bitter he said a little harsher than he meant to, "And there's nothing either of us can do about it. At least he wants to visit you when he can."  
She studied him and had a good idea of where some of his pain and bitterness were coming from, "If he does, I'll ask if he can include you in some way."  
When he closed his eyes as his expression drained of any emotion, Lana gently captured his hand and pressed her lips to his knuckles. He took a deep breath and raggedly let it out, his voice was husky, "Thank you."  
"Had I been thinking, I would have asked then."  
He shook his head in disbelief, his good humor returning to him, "Only you, love."  
"Only me what?" She frowned up at him as she asked the question.  
"Only you would be upset for not thinking to ask a question on the behalf of someone else when you were in such emotional turmoil."  
"Well, I should have."  
He shook his head again with amusement, then leaned down to lightly kiss her. Her hand reached up to lightly clasp the back of his neck as she returned the kiss just a little stronger. Another sigh escaped him as he reluctantly pulled away, "Since we're on uncomfortable topics..."  
She tried to hide her worry, "Yes?"  
"The Orlesian Wardens... They arrived a week ago and have been asking questions. Well, three of them came to Denerim, the rest had already gone on to Amaranthine since I'd let them know about Vigil's Keep being theirs before the coronation."  
She grimaced, "I see. What have you told them?"  
"Everything except the ritual. I act stupid every time they say that one of us should be dead with the archdemon."  
Reacting to the resignation in his voice about acting the part of an idiot, she snapped, "You're not stupid Alistair. Sometimes you don't think, but that happens to us all."  
A small smile tugged at his lips, "I know that, but I wasn't sure how they'd react to being told about the ritual. So I figured I'd keep that to just the two of us."  
"Hm. So why weren't they here today?" Had there been other Wardens present, she would have sensed them.  
"Not Warden business." The sourness in his tone made her look up at him sharply. He shrugged, "I imagine they're going to want to talk with you soon now that you're up and about. I'll keep my opinion to myself for now, let you decide for yourself what you think about them."  
One pale brow went up. He'd told her more than he probably intended, but she'd try to keep an open mind. She smiled a little, "Fair enough." She was quiet for a moment, "You seem to be taking what I told you rather calmly."  
A rueful smile curved the corners of his mouth, "I've learned to expect the unexpected whenever it comes to you. But I know you, Lana, and you've proven that you're you all day. While I'm a little disturbed at the fact your soul was compatible with Urthemiel's, there's something amazing about that." He cast a sideways glance at her and the smile changed to a smirk.  
"It proves Zev was right about one thing though and he didn't even know you at the time."  
Lana wasn't sure if she wanted to know where he was going, but she asked anyway, "Oh? Do tell."  
"You really are a deadly sex goddess", he purred.  
Despite herself, she laughed remembering how she'd been ready to kill the elf for that comment, though coming from Alistair it held an entirely different meaning. With eyes full of golden light, Alistair grinned at her response. Once she calmed down, she lightly kissed him. An action he returned with a bit more heat.  
"I missed you." He leaned down to kiss her again. He murmured against her lips, "I love you."  
"I love you too, and you have no idea how much I missed you."  
"Then why don't you show me?" He purred as he covered her body with his own.  
She laughed even as she wrapped her arms around him, "Again?"  
"Warden stamina, m'dear. Surely you couldn't have forgotten about that already", he smirked before he nuzzled her neck.  
Afterward she propped herself up on an elbow to watch him in his sleep, smiling as she drank in the sight of him sprawled out on his back, one arm under his head, the other hand resting on her leg. He'd filled out, Lana realized, with firm flesh and no signs of letting himself go. His hair was longer, no longer did he have the little fringe sticking up in front. Best of all, the dark circles that had been slowly starting to appear under his eyes during the strain of the events surrounding the Landsmeet were gone. Under her loving, watchful gaze, he smiled a little in his sleep, causing an echoing smile on hers.  
Content that all was well for the moment, she settled down next to Alistair for her first true sleep since she redeemed Urthemiel from the Taint.  
The next morning, Lana woke to a room full of sunshine, but no Alistair. Though his scent lingered on her skin and the sheets of the bed. A faint snore drew her attention to the hearth of the fireplace where Oogie slept contentedly. The massive dog had been waiting for his human when the procession returned to the palace. Since he'd been getting underfoot, he'd bee banished to the kennels for the duration of the ceremony. Not that he minded, there'd been a couple of mabari bitches that had just gone into heat and the kennel master was delighted to have a hound with Oogie's lineage to help start rebuilding the numbers of the warhounds.  
A little groggily she sat up, and saw the note on the bedside stand with his unmistakable scrawling handwriting. She smiled a little as she read it.  
My Dear,  
You looked too peaceful to disturb and since there aren't any immediate fires I need you to help put out, I wanted to let you sleep in. And don't scowl like that.  
She had to laugh at the last, since she'd started to do just that. Though she did have a vague recollection of him murmuring "Go back to sleep, love" before kissing the back of her head. Lana supposed that was when he'd gotten up for the day and tried to suppress the twinge of guilt for sleeping so long.  
Fergus asked to be notified when you're up so he can have breakfast and some quiet time with his sister. Unfortunately, Teagan and I have some stuffy meeting or anotherthis morning so I'm afraid I won't be able to see you until lunch.  
Try to relax and take it easy for once. Or I'll have to fuss over you.  
Ever yours,  
Alistair  
Smiling as she held the note, Lana debated if she should pull on her dress from the night before to get into her suite adjacent to Alistair's when she saw said dress was gone and nearby was a dressing gown of dark blue silk. Next to the dressing gown were her stilettos laid out in a neat row. She frowned, normally she didn't sleep so deeply that she'd ignore a stranger in her room. Even before Howe's treacherous attack on Highever. Another muffled snore helped her realize that having Oogie, and quite likely Alistair, in the room reassured her enough that she slept through it.  
With a critical eye she examined her weapons and satisfied that there'd been no tampering done, strapped them into place. Then slipped on the robe after a quick wash in the tepid water in a nearby pitcher next to a hand basin. A muffled snort from Oogie drew her attention to where he was still sprawled out, but head lifted enough to let her know he was keeping an eye on her.  
Lana smiled at him, "It's all right, boy. Just going to go into the other room to get dressed. Fergus is going to be meeting me for breakfast."  
A full body wriggle made her grin outright. Her brother always did have the habit of spoiling her dog rotten. Even if he couldn't bribe the mabari to look the other way when he tried anything sneaky on his little sister. "You'll have to be patient though, I'm going to get cleaned up and dressed first."  
Oogie heaved a melodramatic sigh before resettling in his spot, though the wagging stump of a tail betrayed his happiness.  
As she wrapped the garment around her and tied the sash, she worried at the cost going into her wardrobe. Yes, with her station it was important to dress well, but at the same time the sovereigns could be put to better use. Resolving to talk to Alistair, she headed towards her suite when she heard someone moving around in the sitting room just outside of the bedroom. Loosening one of the daggers, she opened the door enough to get a look at who was poking around. A young woman clad in the livery of the palace staff was bustling around the room apparently getting the room organized for breakfast judging by the small table covered in linen and tableware and flanked by two chairs.  
In an attempt to not startle the servant, Lana was careful to let the door swing open so that its natural squeak would announce her presence. The young woman turned around, revealing sweet features framed by wisps of dark hair that escaped her cap and gave Lana a worried look, "I hope I didn't disturb you, m'lady?"  
She smiled reassuringly, "Not at all. I'm not used to sleeping so late. Would you let my brother know that I'm awake...?" She trailed off hoping to get the girl's name.  
Proving to be quick witted the girl bobbed her head, "Deidre, but please call me Dee, m'lady." Dee looked at her thoughtfully, "Would you like a bath first m'lady?"  
Considering the activities the night before precluded such things, and while she did have the quick wash, she still felt...sticky. She smiled warmly at the other young woman, "A bath would be wonderful, thank you. And, er, I'm afraid you'll have to point me in the right direction."  
If Dee thought that was strange, she gave no sign, instead she beamed in return, "Of course, m'lady! And if you let me know what you want to wear, I can have your clothes laid out once you're done."  
Amused, Lana said dryly, "I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself."  
Coloring, Dee shook her head, "I didn't mean to offend -"  
"You didn't, I'm aware most noblewomen wear those idiotic things that strangle life out of a person called dresses. Since I usually prefer more practical things, I don't need help." A sudden, horrible thought struck her, "It's not all dresses, is it?"  
Obviously relieved, Dee smiled, "Oh, no. Your friend, Lady Leliana, went through the trunks of clothing stored up in the attics to find things that you'd like until you were able to arrange fittings for your wardrobe."  
So that was where the clothes had come from. If the rest were like the few things she'd seen thus far, Lana knew she'd be happy enough with them. She knew she should probably care more about clothing, since she knew many of the noblewoman, and wives of the wealthier merchants, would often take the cue from the Queen as to what would be considered fashionable. But considering all the work that was needed to go into helping Ferelden recover, she had more important things to worry about than fashion. Besides, it wouldn't hurt them to learn what it was like to actually be able to move properly. Or even consider doing useful work.  
Lana nodded to the girl before starting to head to the door that connected her rooms to Alistair's, debating if she should try to meet with the other Wardens that day, or put the meeting off for a day or so. If they were anything like Riordan, they wouldn't react well to her decisions. She was bemusedly debating over a surprisingly large selection of clothing when there was a knock at the dressing room door. Despite her thoughts on appearance, she didn't want to embarrass Alistair or Fergus. Grateful for the interruption, she called out, "Enter."  
The door cracked open a bit and Dee poked her head around, "My lady, your bath is ready. And a message was delivered for you."  
Curious, she accepted the sealed envelope and internally winced at seeing the seal of the Wardens embossed into red wax with glittering, golden flecks on the flap. Her lips compressed thinly at the demand veiled as a request for her to see Warden Chen immediately. He could sodding well wait. At least, she presumed the warden in question was male. The writing certainly was in a man's hand. Almost worse than Alistair's handwriting.  
Funny how their Orlesian "brothers" didn't make much of an effort to help Ferelden with the Blight, yet demanded answers. If they truly had been near the borders like Riordan implied, they could have arrived much sooner than they did.  
Alistair's attempt at trying to be diplomatic about the Orlesians failed completely with the wording of the letter. She suspected the Warden, not even a senior one, phrased the note deliberately to make sure she arrived angry. Lana absently wondered if they knew that anger generally acted as a means of focus for her, rather than distraction. With a mental shrug she decided that such speculation was a waste of energy. "Is the messenger who delivered this still around?"  
Dee nodded cautiously. Lana smiled at her, "Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to take it out on you. Or the messenger, unless he was the idiot that wrote the note."  
"Oh no, m'lady, he didn't. It's just one of the palace pages that were assigned to the Wardens while they're here."  
"In that case, if they're anything like what I'm beginning to suspect, he has my sympathy. Just have him let the Wardens know I'll meet them mid-morning." Lana studied the note thoughtfully, "And if you could have someone arrange for some refreshments in one of the meeting rooms?"  
"Certainly, my lady. I'll be right back to fetch your things for your bath."  
Shaking her head, Lana turned back to the armoire, her mind made up about what to wear. Laid out her selections before heading to the bath.  
It had been very difficult to get out of the still warm water, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to actually wallow in a hot bath. There'd been a few rare times while on the road where a real bath had been available, but she couldn't wallow since other people were waiting their turn. It had been too damn cold at the Peak to indulge in long baths, she was just glad to get cleaned up without anything freezing off in that icy hulk of a fortress. Then during the Landsmeet things had been too hectic to indulge as well.  
Knowing that Fergus was likely waiting on her was what finally spurred her to get moving. She'd gotten a chance to talk with him a little more the day before, but not enough to start really getting caught up. Hastily drying off, she donned the dark, charcoal gray tunic and trews embroidered in gold and silver threads, a lightweight, long sleeved shirt of a shimmering silver-gray underneath. Having gotten accustomed to wearing linen, wool or leather, the rich fabrics felt strange against her battle scarred hands and skin. She pulled on soft, black suede leather boots.  
Fortunately the clothing was loose enough to secrete her weapons about her person, and a dagger in each boot.  
With Dee's help, Lana dried her hair and pulled it back with a pair of onyx combs, letting the luxuriant mass cascade down to her hips. Another strange feeling. Allowing her hair to fall free when not going to bed, though she used to allow it to do so when she could still call Highever home. It was only a little over a year ago. Not even a year and a half.  
Yet that was a different life, a different person.  
Trying to shake off her melancholy, Lana silently padded down the short hall that connected the bathing chamber to the rest of the royal suite. Yet she couldn't shake off the conflicting emotions over the coming visit. Sucking in a deep breath to steel her nerves, she walked into the sitting room. She paused for a moment to keep from laughing too loudly at the sight that greeted her.  
Oogie was on his back, rolling around in canine ecstasy as Fergus knelt down giving the dog a good rub sending fine, tawny hairs flying in a small cloud around the two. Both looked up at her quiet chuckle and not for the first time she could have sworn they had the same grin. This was one of the things she missed without letting herself think about it. Fergus and Oogie had always been friends for all that they weren't bonded. Even if the mabari still wouldn't accept Fergus's bribes.  
Then she being crushed in her brother's bear-like embrace and all the worries fell away. Fergus was alive, and if not well, would be soon. At that moment all that mattered was that what was left of her family was right there. He murmured, "Little sister it's so good to see you."  
He stepped back to smilingly look her over, "Though if I'd known you were going to be so formal, I would've dressed nicer."  
Seeing that breakfast was already laid out, and hoping to head her stomach off at the pass, Lana grumbled as she headed for the table, "The Orlesian Wardens have 'requested' to see me. I thought I would get that out of the way after seeing you."  
"Oh, them." The flat tone of his voice made her pause to slant a narrowed eyed glance at her big brother. He looked like he swallowed something unpleasant. Wonderful, first Alistair, now Fergus. She wondered if there were going to be three less Wardens in the world after she finished speaking with them. They managed to annoy both Alistair and Fergus, two of the most laid back men she'd ever known. And considering her own temper... Well, she'd just have to keep a better reign on it than usual.  
"I can somewhat understand why they could upset Alistair, but what'd they do to get to you?" She sat down at the table, poured them mugs of hot tea, putting a generous dollop of honey into hers. Fergus stirred in a less generous dollop of honey. "Their arrogance, and it's not because they're Orlesian. Only one of them is, one is Antivan, the third... I have no idea what he is. But they seem to think they're entitled to a piece of your glory, simply because they too are Wardens."  
Lana sipped at her tea, "I'm no hero, Fergus. I know most people seem to think I am, but I'm not. I was just doing my duty, so they're welcome to all the glory if they want it." She grimace, "Glory. That's how Cailan got himself killed, the idiot."  
Fergus choked, "I'm not sure which I should be more appalled by. The fact I owe Alistair five sovereigns, or that you called our former king an idiot."  
Cobalt eyes narrowed, "What were you betting on with Alistair? And Cailan was an idiot. All full of glory and minstrel tales. You'd been dealing with the man for five years as father's heir, I'm sure he must have shown something of that nature."  
The older Cousland sibling rubbed his forehead, "Alistair said that you'd say something like that. I had a hard time believing my fierce sister would refuse to call herself what she is."  
She looked away from him as she started to serve them the food before it got cold. "Fergus...the things I ended up having to do so that we could survive the Blight, the war..." Lana sighed, "I'm sure that if Alistair didn't tell you everything, Leliana probably did. I'm no hero, heroes don't do what I had to."  
He made a non-committal grunt, causing her eyes to narrow again, "I know better than to argue with you, Lana. Well, except to say that I hope that one day you can view your actions the way the rest of us do so you can understand why we call you that."  
She shrugged uncomfortably under his gaze as she took a bite of food. Then he said gently, "It's not your fault."  
Trying not to choke, she coughed then sighed, "Fergus..."  
"Don't 'Fergus' me. It isn't your fault and I don't blame you. You haven't changed so much, little sister, to know that what happened at home would have been eating at you all this time. Even after making that prick Howe pay."  
Since she didn't have anything to say in response she went back to attacking her food. There was faint amusement in his voice as he said, "I'm not sure what those eggs ever did to you."  
Not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm, Lana said, "I should've looked for you in the Wilds, brother. But after hearing the surrounding area had been overrun, I didn't know where to look without finding more trouble."  
Fergus shook his head in between bites of his own food, "Just as well you didn't. My patrol got over run by a band of darkspawn that had three times our number. I woke up some time later in a Chasind hut. Some of their hunters had found me and brought me back to their tribe to see if their healer could help."  
"It's a miracle you weren't Tainted, or worse", she said, her relief was beyond words at that fact. He nodded his agreement, "Believe me, I thank the Maker and blessed Andraste for that every day. More so now that you're alive and well, Lana."  
She finally asked something that had been bothering her since Ostagar, "Why were you out on that patrol anyway? Forgive me, but you're no scout."  
"You really couldn't say no to a man like Teyrn Loghain."  
Both pale brows went up at that.  
"Marlana", her brother said her name in a long suffering sigh, "Not all of us have your kind of defiance. Or at least be able to get away with it. That a man like the Hero of River Dane wanted me to undertake a special mission..."  
Her lips thinned and her eyes went cold, "I didn't make him suffer near enough then."  
Fergus moved very carefully, setting down his utensils deliberately, he remembered her temper, but not this terribly icy side of it. All of her companions had assured him that she'd never hurt any of them when she went cold, but he could tell none of them dared to see what would happen if they set her off. Except for Alistair, who cheerfully admitted she scared him shitless. He still would set her off he had to. So very calmly, very evenly he said to his very scary little sister, "Lana. You made him pay enough. You proved who the real traitors to the country were, redeemed our family name and saved the country from itself. And the world from another Blight."  
"Are you sure about that?" It took everything he had to not shiver at her tone.  
"Very sure."  
Lana went back to eating as the ice in her eyes thawed. Trying not to heave a sigh of relief, Fergus did the same and continued with his story. "So I spent some time with the tribe, I honestly don't know how long. I do know their healer was concerned about me, but I pulled through somehow. Once I regained my strength, I stayed with them for a time doing what I could to repay them, but they sent me on my way saying that they weren't going to cage me."  
While he refilled his tea, she asked, "Why didn't you seek me out? I wasn't exactly subtle."  
"While you may thought you weren't subtle, you were subtle enough that it was damn hard to find you. So I went to Highever instead where I found that bastard Howe's forces abusing our people."  
Fergus closed his eyes and shook as he tried to control his fury at what he'd found. Mindful of the things on the table, Lana reached out to cover her brother's clenched fist. He held onto her as he took in one shuddering breath after another as he tried to regain control. Finally he calmed, let go of her hand and lightly patted it. "We finally took back the castle shortly before we heard about your march to Denerim. By the time I'd gotten here, the archdemon was already dead and you weren't much better."  
Mutely, Lana nodded. He smiled suddenly, "That gave me the measure of man that I heard was involved with you. And our new King. He was so very nervous to meet me, but at the same time I could see he was determined to do his best by me." He gave her a sly grin, "I can see why you fell for him, he's a very good man, and one I'm glad to call brother. Though Maker only knows what he saw in you."  
Anyone else, those words would have been cutting, but it was Fergus. If he wasn't allowed to give her a hard time, who could? Particularly after the time she gave him about Oriana. She grinned back and went along with him, "I know, right?"  
Her tone shifted to a more serious one without realizing it, "Maker knows, I was a sharp tempered bitch, worse than usual, in the early days. Especially when he and Morrigan got into their daily snap and snarls."  
Fergus quirked a brow up in the mirror image of his sister's expression. So she explained about Morrigan and Alistair's instant, mutual dislike and distrust. Which led to other stories. Soon the food was finished, the few leftovers happily consumed by Oogie, then the two siblings relocated to more comfortable chairs with more tea to talk quietly while the breakfast debris was cleared away. Mindful of servants tendency to talk, Lana was careful about what she said, keeping to the more light hearted stories.  
Once the servants were gone, Fergus smiled, "I never thought I'd see that look in your eyes, Lana."  
"What look?"  
"The light that shows every time you talk about Alistair."  
Flustered, Lana flushed slightly, not sure what to say. His smile broadened, "It's all right, he gets the same expression when he talks about you. Did he ever tell you the main reason why he agreed to be made King?"  
She frowned at her brother wondering where he was going, "What do you mean? We didn't exactly have a lot of choices at the time and neither of us wanted that snake to keep her bony butt on the throne. And Alistair said he thought he might be able to do a lot of good." She looked away, "There were a great many things we saw in our travels that had been neglected long before the Blight. Things Alistair hoped we might be able to correct."  
He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, "It's not that at all, little sister. That maybe the reasons he gives publicly... A couple of nights ago, when we were having a small, private celebration of Alistair's coronation. Well, more like trying to coat his nerves with alcohol, than actual celebration on his part."  
Lana chuckled, having a good idea of how her beloved would have been handling the night before the ceremony that gave him the one title he never wanted. And tried to keep from guilty over the fact she wasn't there for him. Though Fergus had been at least. "He didn't seem hung over yesterday, so either he didn't drink that much or Wynne took pity on him."  
"A little of both. Anyway, I finally pried out of him what really made him accept the throne. It was because of you."  
She frowned, eyes going dark in distress and her voice was strained from it, "Fergus, I never meant to pressure him. I kept telling him he didn't have to do it."  
"Easy, Lana, easy. It wasn't because of what you did, it was because of what he wanted for you."  
She shook her head, not understanding. He sighed, "Now keep in mind that he didn't say this in exact words, but having been in love myself..." He trailed off, shook himself and continued, "I knew where he was coming from. He wanted to give you a place to call home, one he thought worthy of you. More than that, he wanted a home where he knew that you'd feel secure enough to rest easy at night without the need to feel constantly on guard."  
Speechless, Lana stared at Fergus. From time to time, Alistair had spoken quietly about her finding a place to call home again when they first became involved. Then later he'd talked about finding a place they both could call home together. But she never imagined that's why he accepted the one position in life he never wanted and wished he had told her. Without thinking about it, she asked aloud, "Didn't he realize I would've been more than happy to just be a Grey Warden with him?"  
A quick knock on the door before Dee poked her head into the room prevented Fergus's reply, "M'lady, it's near time for your meeting with them. Corporal Edwards is outside to act as your escort."  
Great, the other Wardens had managed to annoy the maid enough for the young woman to display it verbally. Stifling a sigh, she said , "Thank you, Dee." She looked over at Fergus, "I'll see you at lunch, then?"  
He shook his head, "I have some meetings of my own to make arrangements for repairs to the castle. I I will see you later, just not sure when since I don't know how long it'll take."  
Lana nodded her understanding and gave her brother a fierce hug before heading off to her more unpleasant duty. Fergus returned the embrace and muttered into her ear, "Do be good, sister, and try not to kill any of them."  
She huffed out her laughter as she headed out the door. She would be good and wouldn't kill them. But that didn't mean she couldn't inflict a little pain if they got too out of hand.


	42. A Surprising Lack of Bloodshed

Standing just outside of the royal suite, the stocky guard with short cropped dark brown hair, and the faint shadow on chin and jaw that he just could not get rid of, pondered over just how he'd gotten his current assignment. He knew that most of his fellows would have loved getting this particular one. It wasn't often that a guard got singled out to watch over one of the royals, so it was normally an honor. In this case, not so much. Granted, his problem was just how he'd gotten picked for the assignment, not the assignment itself.  
He'd never been a "morning person", meaning that he generally needed time to wake up regardless of what time "morning" was if there wasn't an emergency going on. So when he shambled out of the barracks to see what his duty for the day was, he wasn't prepared for the Sergent on Duty to say "Edwards, cap'n wants to see ya."  
Wondering what he could possibly have done to warrant the captain's attention, he didn't need any of the strong tea that sat brewing in the duty room, he was already wide awake. A knock on the door to the office elicited a gruff, "Door's open."  
Sitting at the positively ancient, battered desk that could have dated back to Calenhad's time, Captain Martin Stojanow was a tall, lean man with hair turned pure grey the color of iron, a grizzled face that held piercing black eyes and no hint of stubble on the chin. For all of his advanced years, he could still bring down multiple guards in sparring practice. When he saw Edwards, a faint smile cracked the perpetually stony expression, his voice even more grizzled than his face, "Eleos, prompt as always."  
Not sure what was going on, the captain didn't smile very often and that expression didn't always mean good things for the recipient of that smile, Edwards stood at attention, "You wanted to see me, ser?"  
"No need for formality. Not this early in the day, Eleos. Sit down and have some of that wretched tea you lads have a taste for."  
Eleos obediently got himself said tea before sitting down. This wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. The old man had a reputation of being tough, but he was also fair. If he were in trouble, the captain would've said so, so as he gratefully drank the strong tea, he indulged his curiosity, "Why did you want to see me, ser?"  
Stojanow pinched the bridge of his nose, "It's like this. The King wants someone who can keep up with his Lady and keep her out of trouble."  
Eleos sputtered as he swallowed his tea the wrong way at the captain's words. His commander ignored his reaction and continued on, "I know you have a sister around her age, so you might have some chance of reasoning with her. More importantly, you're steady, reliable and don't flap your lips about things that aren't your business."  
He wondered just how someone would keep a woman like Marlana Cousland out of trouble. He'd been one of the "lucky" guards to be in the Landsmeet chamber the day she stood defiant against the Hero of River Dane. Not only defiant, but confident, as she proved to everyone just how far Loghain Mac Tir had fallen. Then had put him down in a display of sword skill he'd never seen before. Not even the Captain's. When pressed for details about that day, Edwards refused to gossip. That was nothing new for him, but quite frankly he didn't want word getting back to that frightening young woman that he blabbed.  
So now he was being "rewarded" by being assigned as bodyguard to the scary woman that everyone was calling the Hero of Ferelden. Fantastic. The captain was watching him shrewdly, "What I mean by keeping her out of trouble is trying to keep people from pissing her off. Or if they do, try to get them away from her. We both know the woman doesn't need the type of guarding most noblewomen need. Give it a day at least, if you can't do it, I won't hold it against you. I suspect it'll be a duty that'll see a high turnover rate."  
Put that way... the captain just issued an irresistible challenge. And the man knew it too. Damn him.  
The sound of the door opening beside him brought Edwards back to the present. Seeing her at a distance, he'd known she was short. But up close and personal...he didn't realize just how tiny and delicate looking the Hero of Ferelden was. He'd seen elven women that were taller. It didn't help that she had the biggest mabari he'd ever laid eyes on hulking at her side. Hoping that she didn't see his surprise, Eleos stood at attention. "My lady."  
Bright blue eyes studied him, there was a hint of amusement in them and he suspected it was the fact he hadn't hidden his surprise as well as he'd thought. The dog, however, was grinning at him, which was just unnerving since he wasn't used to dealing with the magically bred dogs. But the Lady didn't comment on his reaction, all she asked in an unexpectedly sweet voice, "Corporal Edwards?"  
"Yes, my lady. I've been told to escort you to a meeting."  
She smiled a little, yes, there was definitely amusement in those too knowing eyes, "So you're my minder for the day?"  
"M'lady?"  
A gentle laugh as she started to walk down the hall, "Since he can't be there himself, I imagine Alistair asked for someone to keep an eye on me so I don't damage anyone too badly, or kill someone, when I talk with the other Wardens."  
The Maker truly hated him. While Eleos didn't have any direct dealing with those three, he had friends in the serving staff who did. The Antivan wasn't too bad, but the other two tended to be bossy, arrogant, and demanding. When dealing with nobility and royalty, that was to be expected. However the new King was hardly a bother, the same went for his friends, so when the other Wardens showed up they didn't anticipate the kind of attitudes they displayed. That they came from Orlais didn't help, including the condescending manner too many Orlesians still held for the "dog lords" of Ferelden.  
Because of how his friends had been treated, Eleos looked forward to seeing the Lady take the Wardens down a peg or two for all that she was one. Her brief time at the palace after the Landsmeet had charmed those that had attended her, an attitude that was reinforced by Dee. She'd been bubbling about how the Lady was nicer than she had thought the Hero would be, and was hardly any work at all. The later seemed to have offended the young woman who had been looking forward to exercising her skills as a lady's personal maid, but was willing to accept such an "offense" when the lady in question was fairly undemanding.  
A sigh brought him out of his thoughts, "You too?"  
"Ser?" As soon as the word slipped out, he cursed himself. Yet she didn't seem to mind being called ser instead of my lady.  
"The other Wardens, they got to you also?"  
How was he supposed to answer that question? He didn't want to insult the entire Order based on three men. Though he was beginning to suspect the King and the Lady were exceptions to the type of person that was recruited into the Wardens.  
"It's all right to be honest, Corporal." At least she was still amused, but not as much.  
"I haven't dealt with them, my lady. But from what others have said, they aren't exactly respectful."  
She nodded thoughtfully, then abruptly changed topics, "So tell me, why did you become a guard?"  
Startled, he answered honestly, "It runs in the family, my lady."  
During the rest of the walk, she asked him assorted questions, not just personal ones, but about the palace itself since he'd grown up there amongst other families that served the Theirins for generations. Including the Usurpers, though extremely reluctantly. But it wasn't until they arrived where the Wardens were waiting that it occurred to Eleos that the Lady wasn't making polite conversation. She was looking to distract herself from the coming meeting.  
Before she opened the door, she said very quietly as her expression went coolly remote, "If trouble starts, don't be afraid of coming up with some sort of excuse to get me out of there since I won't be the one that's in danger. And Oogie here is even better at getting into trouble than I am."  
The way the hound's eyes brightened and he panted happily at the thought of trouble at his human's side was a trifle unnerving.  
He started to frown in confusion, then stopped and nodded his understanding instead as he remembered the comments made about "keeping her out of trouble". Like many others, he'd heard the stories of her temper and those who had suffered for it.  
Yet...  
There'd been no fear in Dee's voice when she spoke of Marlana Cousland. No fear in the voices of the others that had served her the brief time she'd been in the palace after the Landsmet. Only respect. The ones that had spoken with fear had been the nobility. From the few contacts he had in the Denerim city guard, they too had spoken of her with respect and not fear. Or rather, the city guards that actually had some sort of working brain, and not the noble lackwits that had been inflicted on Kylon. So he mulled over those who feared her and who didn't as he patiently waited outside yet another door.  
And tried not to think about the kind of trouble a creature like the mabari could get into. Particularly one at the side of a person like the Lady Cousland.  
When she walked into the room and saw only two Wardens, Marlana felt... irritated at their games. Then she realized she could sense the third one just down the hall, the irritation became something a bit stronger, but not any where near true anger. She was also very careful to keep that coolly emotionless expression she put on before entering the room. In silence she studied the two Wardens before her.  
Both looked to be in their early to mid twenties. One had short, dark brown hair topping a long face with high cheekbones under dark brown eyes and swarthy complexion, she presumed him to be the Antivan that had been mentioned. The other had a round face under mussed, glossy black hair, oddly slanted brown eyes and light brown skin. She couldn't really place his nationality and wondered if this was the same individual who had sent her that rather insulting "request". Both had the build of men used to an active lifestyle and had corresponding callouses on their hands showing they did have some sort of weapons training.  
One thing bothered her. For all that they seemed to be physically fit, there seemed to be a softness to them. She wondered how often, if ever, they hunted darkspawn.  
Wondering what kind of game they were trying to play, she said with icy politeness, "Wardens. I trust that you have a reason for such a presumptive summons?."  
They eyed her warily. Good, someone warned them of her temper, so this way if they stepped over the line, they'd know it and have only themselves to blame. She leaned against the wall with arms folded against her chest while Oogie settled down at her feet, but still fully alert. Lana had to stifle a smile as their gazes flicked between her and the mabari. Said hound didn't help matters by grinning at them. It wasn't an entirely friendly grin.  
The one with the round face and black hair rubbed a hand on the back of his head, "I, ah, may have been a little hasty in my words."  
"So you must be Warden Chen", she was trying to remain civil, but she couldn't help the cool tone. She wasn't angry, yet, and she tried not to let other people influence her opinion, however all the people the trio had insulted had some impact on her thoughts. They'd managed to piss off Alistair, who still idolized the Wardens, even after being disillusioned with Riordan. And it took a great deal to set him off in such a way when he cared about something. She knew that from personal experience.  
He nodded, still watching her carefully, "I am! And my unnaturally quiet friend is Delindro."  
The Antivan got to his feet and swept a bow to her, "It is an honor to meet you."  
"Thank you", she said feeling somewhat bemused.  
Chen scowled as his fellow Warden sat back down, "Stop showing off, Delindro."  
"I'm not showing off", he responded blandly.  
The scowl deepened, "Then what do you call bowing to another Warden?"  
"Being polite to the person who killed the archdemon?" Lana had to give Delindro credit for staying cool and calm, though she suspected he was doing it more to needle Chen.  
"Ah yes, the archdemon." Chen turned his attention back to Marlana, "How is it that you're still alive?" His dark eyes flicked to Oogie who was watching him with no sign of canine smile, "And that you have not done your duty as a Warden and put that Tainted beast out of its misery."  
In the sudden silence, the sound of Delindro's palm impacting his forehead was louder than it normally would have been. While Marlana may have watched their squabble with amusement, any good humor vanished with Chen's questions as sapphire eyes turned positively wintry. Her voice still held that terrible calm, "For one thing, Oogie is not in any misery, nor is he contagious. Which if you bothered to actually study him properly you'd realize those facts. As for why I'm still alive, I was lucky in that Alistair got me to the healers in time. You weren't at the receiving end of Wynne's lecture about putting me back together again."  
"You know you should be dead."  
Pale brows went up and she coolly drawled, "Really now?"  
Showing slightly more intelligence than the other Warden, Delindro said warningly, "Chen."  
"It is a fact that every time an archdemon is slain the Warden killing it dies also!"  
The door opened, revealing Corporal Edwards with sword half drawn and a look of concern in his eyes, "Is everything all right, my lady? Shall I deal with these two for you?"  
She kept that frozen gaze on the other Wardens, her voice was still deceptively mild, "There's a third Warden down the hall. I suspect he's the senior to these two. Have someone get him now."  
Oogie looked up at her and whined worriedly, when she didn't reassure him, he got to his feet far faster than something that size should be able to move and positioned himself so that he was between his human and the idiots getting her angry. Rather than leave his future Queen alone with potential enemies, the brawny warrior turned towards the hall to call out to a fellow guard and hastily explained there was a need for the other Warden. Edwards remained in the doorway until the third Orlesian arrived.  
The man arrived quickly and Edwards studied him to see if he was any type of threat. The Warden carried himself with the arrogance of an Orlesian nobleman dealing with a Ferelden, rather than the respect displayed by the Wardens that had been under Duncan's command. Or even displayed by Marlana, who by her rank from birth and actions, could have been far snobbier than she was. The man also had all the earmarks of Orlesian nobility: oval face with fine patrician nose, immaculately groomed sandy hair that fell in ringlets to his shoulders, meticulously kept pencil thin mustache and petite goatee.  
As much as the guard wanted to dismiss the Orlesian, he couldn't. Under the somewhat foppish finery, was a body honed by combat and calloused hands to prove the weapons training. Yet for all the callous, the man's hands were soft looking, almost ladylike. Edwards couldn't help but compare them to Marlana's, that were a testament to the fact she'd spent most of the past year fighting and not just darkspawn.  
"Thank you, Corporal, that will be all for now."  
He studied the young woman, "Are you sure I should leave you alone, my lady?"  
She nodded tightly, "I'm sure."  
Edwards thumped his fist over his heart in salute before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.  
The senior Warden took in the tense tableau between his two assistants and the silver-haired, young woman with the wintry eyes and rubbed his forehead. In Orlesian he said "Chen, you idiot, you managed to piss her off already?"  
Chen stiffened and puffed up,"It is not my fault that she won't answer my questions."  
"You were supposed to start off polite and work your way up to the difficult questions!"  
Marlana stared at them with the stony expression of someone who couldn't understand what was being said, but was fairly sure it was about her. She wasn't about to let on that she was fluent in Orlesian at her father's insistence as she was growing up. Partly because if there were ever any problems with the Orlesians again, she'd be able to understand them, but to also impress the few visitors they had from Orlais. Just as she wouldn't let on that she knew Antivan, which she had learned from Oriana as a way of getting to know her sister by marriage.  
"If you two gentlemen have things you need to discuss, I can meet with you at a more convenient time for you." Marlana still spoke in that too polite tone, her face deceptively bored compared to the icy look in her eyes.  
The latest arrival turned towards her and bowed. Unlike the Antivan's, something about the way the Orlesian made the gesture set her teeth on edge. He spoke too smoothly, "My apologies, my lady. Chen can sometimes get over eager. Isn't that right?"  
Somewhat sulkily, Chen nodded. "I...am sorry. But Odaus is right, I may have been hasty in my words again."  
Lana inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement of the very grudging, and patently false, apology. "So why am I supposed to be dead?"  
Odaus frowned slightly, "You truly do not know?"  
She sighed. Great, she had to go over yet again how she had no clue on what being a Grey Warden meant at first, "I'm sure Alistair told you just how long I was a Warden before the army got overrun at Ostagar?"  
Before he answered, Odaus sat down in a nearby chair while Delindro gratefully sank back into his previous seat. Very reluctantly, Chen settled back down. Marlana chose to remain standing though Oogie slowly sank down on his haunches beside her. He kept his not quite hostile gaze on Chen.  
The senior Warden's lips twisted slightly, "He did, but I do not see how you could have done what you did without knowing anything about your new duties."  
"I am my father's daughter."  
He frowned at her, not understanding what she meant.  
"I am a Cousland. I may not have been the heir, but my father taught me what duty is and how to do the best I can to fulfill whatever my duty is."  
"But you are a Warden now, Marlana", Chen commented, "Your family no longer applies."  
"Warden or my lady", she said tightly.  
"What?"  
"You have yet to earn the right to use my name. So you will show the appropriate respect by using the appropriate titles, Warden Chen." The look in her eyes was no longer cold, but something closer to feral. Delindro leaned over to smack Chen on the side of his head and grunted, "Tonto."  
Rubbing his head where he'd been hit, Chen sulked again, "What was that for? And what did you call me?"  
Sighing, the sandy haired man rubbed his forehead again, "I imagine he was calling you the idiot that you're being. Antagonizing our lovely hostess is not going to help get us the answers we're hoping to get. I did not realize that you were a Cousland, Warden, you have my condolences on your loss. Bryce was a fine man and the world is poorer for his loss."  
Though her eyes narrowed slightly, she calmly said, "Thank you. But you still haven't told me why Warden Chen keeps saying I should be dead."  
Odaus rubbed the side of his nose and sighed, "In all the other Blights the Wardens that killed the archdemons died."  
"Well, if they didn't get to healers in time, I can see why. Nothing like having that kind of power pour through a person's body. Alistair said it was a near thing for me, that I was extraordinarily lucky Wynne was nearby and still had enough energy to keep me stable until they could get me to the rest of the healers."  
"I'm afraid you don't understand, Warden. When the archdemon dies, its soul doesn't pass on. Through the Taint, it passes into the nearest Tainted creature. If its a darkspawn, it is reborn, since darkspawn are soulless beasts, so the archedemon's soul can take hold and reshape the flesh to suit. But a human, dwarf or elf...they all have souls which cannot be displaced. So if one were a Warden and slew the beast, the beast's soul is drawn into the Warden by the Taint and both souls are destroyed. So when the archdemon dies, so too does the Warden."  
Marlana considered his words, as she had with Riordan before him. Unlike Riordan, she didn't believe it. Not just because of the ritual, or what Urthemiel had said in the Fade. It was what she had felt when the soul of the old god had passed through hers. But she still needed time to think everything through and this wasn't the place for it. Instead she shrugged slightly, "And yet, here I am. And before you say anything, I am not an abomination, nor am I possessed. Enough people can agree I'm still myself."  
Chen still glowered at her as if the fact she was still alive was personally offensive and Delindro looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. Odaus regarded her through hooded eyes, then slowly nodded thoughtfully. Slowly he said, "Yes, here you are. The first Warden of any Blight to survive slaying an archdemon. You will leave for Weisshaupt tomorrow morning as they will no doubt wish to hear your story for themselves. And to study your odd Taint."  
Channeling her inner Sten, she said calmly, but firmly, "No."  
He frowned, "I didn't give you a choice, Warden."  
"You're presuming you can order me, Warden Odaus. And that is an assumption that makes an ass of yourself." Marlana wondered if they were trying to deliberately set her off. They were doing a good job of it, but at the same time, they were so obvious about doing so that she could keep her fraying temper under control.  
Anger made him flush, "I am senior to you."  
One pale brow went up, "Senior in Orlais perhaps. Do you have orders transferring you permanently to Ferelden? Or are you here to help us rebuild the Order before going back to Orlais?"  
There was silence. And sapphire eyes narrowed, "Well?"  
"For someone who is so big on respect, you do not seem quick to extend it to others. Particularly someone who is your superior in the Order."  
Sapphire eyes went icy again, then shifty to something worse than winter and she said far too evenly, "What are your exact orders for being in Ferelden?"  
"There are more important questions that have to be answered."  
Oogie growled softly as he stood, Marlana pushed away from the wall, "I don't care what you feel is more important. I'd just awoken yesterday morning and already have heard about your poor treatment of my people. Not just that, but claiming how much you have helped with the Blight."  
All three paled as she snarled, "I do not care if I'm considered a hero or not, but the only help that Alistair and I received as Wardens were not from our own damn Order! You bastards waited until we were done before venturing out of your little hidey holes to see what you could pick off a corpse like vultures."  
"Now just wait -"  
"NO!" She roared, cutting Odaus off mid-sentence, "I will not wait, I tried to give you a chance, but every moment you took the opportunity to tell me that I should be dead, or that I should be jumping at your orders!You were not here to help with the Blight, and it would seem that you're not here to help us recover either. So you have two choices."  
This time Odaus paled in anger, and he asked tightly, "And they are?"  
"You will be leaving Denerim tomorrow morning. You can either go to Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine to help your brothers and sisters there, or you can return to Orlais. If you chose to return to Orlais, I don't care what you do at that point, unless you make the mistake of trying to return to Ferelden."  
She paused to give them the opportunity to respond. Odaus stared at her in silence, then asked, "And if we choose to do otherwise."  
A cold smile curved her lips while there was no hint of laughter in those dark eyes, "I will personally kick your asses out of my nation, then see to it that any Warden that isn't from Ferelden is removed as well."  
"That seems rather extreme, don't you think?"  
"No, I don't."  
Silence fell again as those icy eyes studied the three men, the massive hound beside her no longer audibly growling, but still baring his teeth with visible threat. Marlana had already explained as much as she was going to, if they couldn't, or wouldn't, understand what she had said... Well, they would learn the hard way of why they didn't want to get her any angrier than she already was.  
Odaus sighed, "Very well, we will -"  
"What?" Chen exclaimed, "You're not letting this little girl treat us in such a way."  
There was silence again as Odaus and Delindro stared at Chen in horror. Marlana rubbed her forehead, suddenly tired of the the pointlessness of the conversation, "Just...go. Remember what I said."  
"For a girl with such a vaunted reputation as a fighter, you back down from a fight rather quickly. Marlana", the round faced Warden said with a sneer.  
She studied him with an oddly blank expression, Oogie cast a clearly worried look at his human. Then a cold smile bloomed, "Really, Warden, if you wanted to test my fighting abilities you could have just asked instead of all this needless snapping and snarling."  
She yanked open the door, "Corporal Edwards?"  
The guard watched her with a wary gaze, he'd made a point not to listen to what they were saying exactly, but the angry tones combined with the mabari's growling had him worried. There was a great deal of relief when he saw there hadn't been any blood spilled. Though it quickly faded at the look in her eyes. He'd seen that same expression the day she killed Loghain. "Ser?"  
"Can you tell me if the training salle is in use at this time of day?"  
Edwards struggled to keep a blank expression as fear filled him at her question, "I don't believe so, ser."  
"Good, if you would be so kind as to lead the way? And if you could have someone get these three their arms and armor?"  
Delindro hastily spoke up, "Oh, there is no need for mine."  
Both pale brows went up and the Antivan shrugged, "I do not have any questions on your abilities, my lady."  
Chen glared at him as Odaus nodded thoughtfully, the senior Warden asked a little too casually, "And what of your own arms and armor, Warden?"  
"Oh, I'm sure there's a padded gambeson and a couple of practice blades I can use."  
The four men studied her and Chen seemed to finally be getting an idea of what they were getting into, "Why not use your own equipment?"  
"Even though Starfang was destroyed in the battle with the archdemon, if I used my own weapons and armor, you would die." The words said so matter-of-factly that the four men felt chills as she strode away and Edwards glumly wondered if he was still going to be in the palace guard by the end of the day. This wasn't exactly keeping her out of trouble.  
It was easy enough for the guard to catch up to Marlana with his much longer strides, and the fact she wasn't moving as fast as she could. He glanced at her, then hastily away at the small smile playing on her lips and the glint of feral amusement in those eyes. Behind them the other Wardens were rather animatedly discussing something in Orlesian, or rather, two of them were saying something to the Antivan in Orlesian. She tilted her head slightly then nodded to herself.  
At his puzzled expression she murmured, "It's as I thought. They aren't here under orders." She rolled those big, blue eyes, "Idiots, if they hadn't been so overbearing, I might have gone along with them."  
Edwards wisely kept his opinion to himself. He couldn't see Marlana Cousland following anyone's orders. Except for possibly the King or Teyrn Cousland, and neither of those men seemed inclined to try to order her around. And he wasn't terribly surprised she knew Orlesian. A young woman of her station would have the rudiments of the language as part of her education.  
Soon enough they were at the salle and more off duty guards than normal lurking at the edges. Apparently word had spread like wildfire. A little put out by his fellow guards as he hauled out the training gear for Marlana to pick through, he asked, "Want me to clear 'em out, my lady?"  
"No, I'm sure tongues will be wagging as it is. Hopefully there'll be some that will be honest in what they see."  
More stiffly than he intended, "I don't talk, ser."  
There was a flash of dimple as she grinned, sapphire eyes dancing with amusement, "Oh, I don't mind, as long as you're honest and don't blow things out of proportion." She mock sighed, "Some people have missed their callings as minstrels."  
Unexpectedly charmed, Edwards found himself laughing with the young woman. She was nothing like his little sister, and while she was still frightening, there was still something oddly likable about her.  
Finally she found a gambeson that didn't drag on the ground when she put it on, but still needed to roll up the sleeves. He looked in askance at the wooden blades she selected, rather than the normal blunted metal. She sighed as she began securing the gambeson into place, making sure that it wouldn't trip her, or have the sleeves fall down at the wrong moment. "Even though I've been...unconscious for three weeks, if I use anything else I will more than likely kill them."  
Edwards wasn't quite sure how to respond. She shrugged then pulled the combs out of her hair and tied it up into a tail with a stray bit of lacing. "I've spent a great deal of the past year in more combat than most should see, Corporal. I might not pull all the blows." She slid the wooden blades into their harness at her back, not bothering with sheathes, then sighed and pinched the bridge her nose. "There's reasons why Alistair was the only one who willingly sparred with me. The others preferred not to, and I don't blame them."  
Satisfied that all was as it should be, she walked out to the courtyard of the salle where the other Wardens awaited her, two of them in plate bearing shields and swords, the third off to the side looking more than a little worried. Before going outside, Edwards frowned to himself. The only thing she'd changed was taking the combs out of her hair, she'd simply donned the gambeson over her clothing. Which really wasn't meant for any type of sparring, much less what she proposed. And the boots especially were a concern with their soft soles.  
There was another faint smile cast Edwards's way, "Don't worry, Corporal, I know exactly what I'm doing."  
That right there was the problem, wasn't it? He spared a moment to extend his silent sympathy to the King and wondered how the man could keep up with the Lady.  
All present were so occupied with the three Wardens in the center of the area they didn't notice the small group of men who slipped in at the very edge. Though Marlana cast one brief glance in that direction, she didn't say anything as she kept the majority of her attention on Odaus and Chen.  
To Odaus's credit, he did appear slightly concerned. "Warden, there is no reason you need to resort to such ridiculous gear, if you want to call it such. We can wait for you to properly arm yourself."  
"There is a reason. I have no desire to kill either one of you." She might as well as voiced the word yet. "When I wear my armor and bear my normal weapons it's because I'm expecting to go into battle. There hasn't been time for me to get training gear tailored to me, so this will do for now."  
Odaus frowned at her, there was still no arrogance as she spoke of her skill, just a quiet confidence in what she could do. Marlana continued, "Do you want this as a lesson, or the way I normally fight?"  
"Since we are here for you to prove your bragging is true, a normal fight", Chen answered for both men. Another frown from Odaus, but he nodded his agreement.  
"Very well then." Was all that she said before she lashed out at Odaus. One wooden blade swept the man's feet out from under him, the other dazed him with a blow to the head, despite the helm. Before Chen could react to the sudden assault, she whirled around him and staggered him with a blow to the back of a knee. And brought him down with a blow from a pommel to the back of the neck. Again, hard enough to stun, but not to knock him out. The cracks of the wooden weapons breaking upon impact were very loud in the sudden quiet.  
Calmly she resumed her original placement, blue eyes watching them thoughtfully. No sound could be heard save the wheezing from Odaus and Chen, their audience didn't know how to react. Particularly to the fact that not one strand of silver hair had fallen out of its binding, no hint of sweat on her brow and even more telling, she wasn't breathing heavily. One sharp nod to herself and the wooden blades, or what was left of them, were returned to her back. "Now, gentlemen, you see why I didn't use my normal blades. Now can you accept that a 'little girl' was able to gather the forces needed to stop the Blight and slay the archdemon?"  
A faint groan from one of the prone men was the only answer she got as those watching murmured indignantly amongst themselves. Some of them had been there for the Landsmeet on guard duty with Edwards, others had been part of the forces that had been on the roof of Fort Drakon when she slew the archdemon. All of them knew that the reputation she had with her skill with a blade was a true one, that these Wardens, already disliked, were trying to impugn that reputation...  
Well, that wasn't acceptable at all.  
Hearing the murmurs changing to something more dangerous, Marlana called out, "Someone get these men back to their rooms and have a healer see to them."  
A nervous cough drew her attention to her side where Delindro stood. "Ah, yes, well, we'll head out at dawn. Unless..."  
"Unless what?" She asked neutrally.  
He shifted uncomfortably and slowly spoke, "I would like to remain in Denerim if I may. The rest of my brothers should be arriving soon. Or so I hope. It would be easier for us to arrange for a ship back to Antiva from here."  
Watching Odaus wave off any assistance before limping off, Chen trailing behind him with the assistance of a couple of guards, Lana considered his request. "There's something else that's bothering you?"  
"There are some documents that I brought with me that the other Wardens should have given to you or King Alistair... They are about helping Blighted areas in their recovery. They may not always be effective, but since the Blight here in Ferelden was so short, I hope they may be somewhat successful."  
She closed her eyes so no one could see the tears that threatened to well up. A chance to help the lands stricken by the Taint was more than she had thought possible, "Just for the hope alone, you are welcome to stay." She paused as a new thought struck her, "How many of your brothers came with you?"  
"There were only a handful of us sent, since we were not sure what the exact situation was when we left Antiva." He scowled, "Wardens should not be playing politics."  
A slanted glance caused him to grimace and make an apologetic gesture, "What you and the King did was necessary to stop the Blight. Our supposed brothers and sisters of Orlais, they are playing games they should not be involved in. Because of that, they kept us delayed there until it was too late."  
"And now you fear for your brothers?"  
"I do. I should not, but I do. Though, not all of the Orlesian Wardens are involved, probably not even a majority. But there are enough..."  
She sighed, "Well, I appreciate the warning. I suppose I'll need to keep a closer eye on the ones that went out to Amaranthine than I first expected."  
"I think the only ones that need to be watched are Odaus and Chen."  
"So why were you with them anyway?" She asked very casually.  
"Because for some reason Odaus didn't want me out of his sight."  
"Afraid you might see too much, but didn't want to risk you 'disappearing'?"  
He shrugged, "I'm not sure, but it's likely.  
She nodded thoughtfully and murmured, "Still, best to be prepared." Then in a more normal tone of voice, "Speaking of prepared, I think it would be best that you get relocated to other quarters."  
"Thank you, my lady."  
"Marlana."  
"Pardon?"  
"Call me by name." She grinned slightly at his bemused expression, "You've proven that you aren't too big of an ass and trying to do your best with a bad situation. I'm normally not terribly formal, but I'm afraid that they got me a little riled."  
Delindro's eyes widened as he looked over her head as she felt the familiar presence that she'd felt before teaching the two Orlesian Wardens their brief, but painful, lesson. "A little, hm?" Alistair asked cheerful, "Oh well, that means I get to fuss over you after all."  
"I didn't exert myself," she said hastily, not needing to see the amused glint in his warm, brown eyes. Or his smirk. He chuckled and Delindro bowed before making a quick exit. Lana shook her head at the other Warden's reaction to her beloved, though at least Alistair didn't seem offended.  
Alistair slid an arm around her shoulders, mindful of the wooden hilts. "I seem to remember leaving a note for you to relax. This doesn't look like relaxation to me. What about you, Teagan?"  
"Oh no, Alistair, you are not getting me involved in this", Teagan said very firmly in what sounded a great deal like the voice of past experience to Lana.  
Fergus simply snickered, causing his sister to look at him suspiciously, "I thought you said you had meetings all day?"  
"I do, the current one got interrupted by a servant excitedly announcing that the Hero of Ferelden was going to teach those arrogant Orlesian asses a lesson they weren't going to forget."  
She frowned, "Really?"  
All three men nodded, Corporal Edwards who had cautiously drifted up to the group groaned. "Maker! Your Majesty, My Lady, My Lords, I swear, I didn't mean for you to be disturbed in such a manner."  
Alistair genially waved the man off, "No need to apologize, Corporal. You'll see in the days to come that this is all perfectly normal when we're talking about Lana."  
He grunted slightly when she elbowed him in the ribs, but his grin grew instead of fading. Edwards looked puzzled, "I don't understand, Your Majesty."  
"You did well this morning, I hope you'll continue to serve as Lana's bodyguard."  
The guard shook his head, not able to agree with his King, but at the same time didn't want to contradict him. Alistair laughed, "Relax, Corporal. You did just fine, there was no screams of fear, bloodshed or other types of mayhem."  
"Standing. Right. Here", Lana grumbled, but she couldn't argue. She'd proven rather adept at inciting mayhem without really meaning to. "Besides, you're going to scare him off."  
Smirking, Alistair lightly tugged on a strand of her hair, "I'm not the one he needs to worry about. Anyway, let's get you out of this ridiculous outfit and go have some cheese."  
"I just-", the audible growl from her stomach cut her off. She sighed, "Oh, blast it. Fine, we'll go have some cheese, or whatever."  
"Take a break or something, Corporal, "Alistair said easily as he started to guide his still grumbling betrothed away, "I have her for now. Though you'll likely be needed this afternoon."  
Edwards watched them walk off, feeling numb and amazed at the fact he was still standing. Despite himself, he was curious to see what other situations the Lady was going to get herself into.  
As Alistair led his lady and her brother off, with an amused Teagan in their wake and an excited Oogie dancing around the group, Odaus slowly entered the guest suite he'd been given for the duration of his stay in Denerim. Carefully, he lowered himself into the very comfortable chair at the fireplace of the room, then slowly put his feet up on the matching hassock then sighed in relief as his aching body finally relaxed. He had to give the young Warden credit for pulling her blows. And was grateful that she had insisted on using training gear. Ridiculous as it looked.  
Even though she'd been careful, getting slammed into the ground the way he had been, followed by the stunning blow to the head, left him covered in bruises and aching muscles.  
For a moment he studied the tray of food and bottle of wine that had been brought up to him and sighed. More of the simple Ferelden fare, though to give them credit it was freshly made and was of ample quantities. Not quite ready to eat yet, he poured himself a glass and hoped that the vintage wasn't going to be as...inferior as the previous ones he'd been served. Taking a cautious sip he found himself pleasantly surprised at the pleasantly fruity flavor.  
When he finally read the label, he had to laugh. Someone displayed a rather delightful sense of irony. The wine was from a winery in Highever, home of the young woman who had just trounced him in a way no one had in years. Setting the glass to the side, he began to pick at his food. While it was no where near as fine as what he'd been served at the compound attached to the Imperial Palace in Val Royeaux, it was tasty enough. As much as he hated to admit it, it was also far more filling than the typical Orlesian delicacies he was used to.  
Sated for the moment, he refreshed his glass and sank back into the chair to think over the day. Odaus had to acknowledge that letting Chen be the one to send the request and start the talk with Marlana was a very bad idea. He'd known the young man could be brash, but he hadn't realized how brash. Though it had been interesting to see how she had handled the situation. All the stories he'd heard was that she had no control over her temper. That when Marlana Cousland became furious, things died. Often very messily.  
Instead he saw something much more dangerous. An intelligent woman who used that anger as a focus and used it as a weapon in the verbal sparring match. He'd been impressed at how she deflected their questions, even if the responses had been somewhat crude. And he shouldn't have been quite so high handed, but her attitude had brought out the arrogance inherent in the noble family he came from. He would keep that in mind for future interactions with her.  
While he was disappointed at being banished to the back of the beyond for the moment, still it was good to know that he would have someone to play the Great Game against.  
Lifting his glass in toast to the woman who wasn't present, Odaus said, "To you Marlana Cousland, may you never cease to be a worthy opponent."


	43. Moments of Terrible Sanity

The day the first of her companions left was cold, windy and rainy. A perfect reflection of her mood, Marlana thought as she stood at the dock where the ship that would bear Sten on the first leg of his journey back home was moored. For a long moment the bronze skinned giant stood in silence regarding the diminutive woman as she watched him in return, trying to keep her expression blank of the sorrow that made her heart heavy. His already impressive size was made more so from the massive dragonbone plate he wore, Wade's amazing workmanship could still be seen despite the abuse the armor had taken during the Blight.  
She'd always hated goodbyes, but after the loss of her parents, they'd become even harder. And now her adopted family was starting to break up. Intellectually she knew that Sten would eventually return to Seheron, but the heart wasn't inclined towards being so reasonable. But she wouldn't voice those thoughts and tried to be as stoic as Shale was.  
To her right stood said golem, looking deceptively like a statue with glowing gems for eyes and flickering blue crystals inset in the shoulders, upper torso and hands. On her left, Oogie sat quietly, his posture one of sorrow at Sten's departure, she laid her hand on his head in a way to reassure the mabari, and to give some support to herself.  
Finally she said, "Fare you well in your travels, Sten. You'll be missed, my friend."  
He bowed to her in the manner of his people, "And you as well, kadan. Though I still do not know what to make of you, you have proven yourself as a true warrior."  
She grinned wryly, "You're not the only who has trouble understanding me. Some days I don't always understand myself." Both Qunari and golem snorted at the same time. Her grin broadened then faded, "It was an honor to have fought with you. And I'm truly grateful to have learned more of your people, even if we don't exactly see eye to eye on certain matters."  
"Indeed." He hesitated then said with an odd emphasis, "I hope that we need never cross swords in the future."  
Great, now she had a possible future Qunari invasion to worry about now, and invasion was the only thing she could think of that he would be referring to. Between that comment and some of his comments to Alistair... She knew he was giving as much of a warning he could. From her talks with him on the road, Lana understood that the Qunari felt all must live under the Qun. While she thought it had some admirable elements to it, Lana felt more than a little stifled at the thought of what life would be like under its restrictions. She sighed, "I don't suppose there is any way that your people could accept that there are other ways of life?"  
Nothing was said as he gazed at her steadily. Resigned, she nodded, "I see. Just remember one thing, Sten."  
"And that is?" He asked warily.  
She smiled a little, "If you find that you don't fit into the Qun the way you used to, you will always have a place here in Ferelden."  
Astonished, Sten rumbled, "I do not know what to say."  
"You could try saying thank you", Shale rumbled tartly.  
After a sideways glance at the now grinning golem, Sten inclined his head to Lana, "Thank you, though I do not know if your countrymen would agree."  
"You helped stop the Blight and led the troops that held the gates in the Battle for Denerim. The people won't forget that."  
"Perhaps you are right about that. Though I doubt that I have forgotten my place, I still appreciate the thought."  
Behind them came the horn sounding the boarding call. "This is it then. Good bye." He paused and instead of the usual 'kadan', said, "My friends."  
Not looking back, Sten briskly turned away to stride to the ramp and onto the ship. In silence the trio stood on the dock, watching the last of the passengers board, then the crew double checking to make sure everything had been loaded and secured properly. Soon the ropes were cast off and the ship was underway. The wind that had Lana grumbling to herself filled the massive sails, speeding the vessel on its way.  
With the winds gusting up the way they were, it didn't take long for the ship to sail out of sight. Quietly, Lana drew the hood of her cloak up over the silver-white hair that still shone brightly under the dark clouds. Corporal Edwards moved up to her side from where he'd been standing discretely at a distance to give them what privacy he could. And to shoo away those that wanted to gawk at the Hero and her odd friends. Fortunately, the miserable weather kept the crowds down to a minimum. He still made sure to have a small compliment of palace guards to serve as a proper escort.  
At least the King agreed with Edwards about the additional guards when Marlana tried to refuse the escort. He didn't hear what King Alistair said to his betrothed, but she'd huffed a short laugh before lightly kissing him on the cheek. Not for the first time the guard reflected that the King was a far braver man than anyone gave him credit for.  
Quite frankly Edwards would rather face a small mob of darkspawn on his own again rather than be romantically involved with a scary young woman like Marlana Cousland. Then again, considering all their other companions, he shouldn't be surprised. He wondered if she actually knew anyone normal.  
Marlana's abrupt stop jarred him out of his musings, his sword and shield were drawn before he consciously thought about it when her head went up, searching the area for something. The hood fell away from her hair, allowing the wind to make a long, streaming banner of it, instead of confining it the way she normally did, she continued to scan the area. Then her eyes darkened and her mouth curved into a silent snarl.  
"My lady?" He asked carefully, not wanting that ire directed at him. "What's wrong?"  
She stood frozen for a moment, "More Wardens. If we move fast enough, we can get to the palace in time."  
Edwards wasn't surprised at her reaction to more Wardens, after the "conversation" a week before. Or the surly departure of Odaus and Chen the morning after her painful lesson to the two men. He was surprised that she could sense them. He knew that Wardens could sense darkspawn, but didn't realize they could sense each other. But that something to think about later. Now, they had to get to the palace, presumably to warn the King.  
Again the ill weather was in their favor as those that were out and about were hurrying to their destinations as well as the cold drizzle turned into a downpour. So they paid no mind to the royal guards or the person they were guarding. Though Edwards made a mental note to insist more firmly on a proper conveyance in the future. He'd find something that would fit the damn golem. Walking in the rain was for the poor sods in the city guard.  
He also made a mental note to have a firm talking to with those on duty at the entrance to the palace as they waved the group through. Granted it'd be difficult, if not impossible, to mimic Marlana's hair or dig up a sentient golem that sounded like Shale, but one never knew.  
A guard could never be too paranoid in the protection of those he watched over. Particularly these two charges. While Edwards's primary concern was to be the Lady Marlana, he considered the King a part of that duty as well.  
But the justified chastising would have to wait for later, right now it took everything he had to keep up with the woman who was moving far too fast for someone with her lack of height.  
Windblown and dripping, Marlana erupted into Alistair's study. Seeing the feral look in her eyes, he felt a thrill of fear shiver down his spine. Though when he saw it was water dripping off her cloak, he heaved a silent sigh of relief. And didn't miss Teagan's when the older man saw that it wasn't blood soaking her cloak. Granted she hadn't killed anyone recently, or even tried maiming them, including Odaus and Chen, it was still best to be cautious of her temper for now.  
His secretary, Giles, a bookish young man with an unexpectedly good swordarm, carefully gathered up his notes, "If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty, I'll write these up for you to review and sign later."  
He nodded to Giles, not bothering trying to tell the man that it was all right to address him by name yet again. Setting aside the latest report he'd been reviewing with Teagan, Alistair steepled his hands before him on the desk and asked, with slightly forced cheerfulness, "What's the matter, love?"  
"More Wardens." She took no pleasure in seeing the good humor in Alistair's eyes fade and his expression turn grim.  
"How many and what do they want?"  
"I don't know what they want, they were just outside of the city gates. As for how many...somewhere between four and eight. They're not coming from the direction of Vigil's Keep, unless they took a round about way."  
The big man scrubbed his face, just what he needed. Though he knew why she was reacting so strongly, having Sten leave was having a stronger effect on her emotions than his fierce lady would admit to. And he was feeling somewhat disillusioned about the other Wardens after the treatment they received from Odaus and Chen. He kept trying to tell himself that it was just two Wardens, but what if they really did represent what the other Wardens thought? The hostility and suspicion that had been directed to Lana and he had been more than a little dismaying.  
"Why don't you at least take that cloak off, sit down by the fire and have some tea to warm up. Maybe we'll have enough time to try to figure something out."  
Teagan neatly gathered the papers in front of him then got to his feet, "I think I'll go review these and give you my thoughts on them later, Alistair."  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alistair sighed, "You might as well stay, Teagan, it'll likely have some sort of impact on Ferelden."  
"If that's the case, you can have a page come get me, but I suspect it'll be Warden business first. Something I have no desire to be a part of."  
Stripping off the sodden cloak and hanging it by the fire that had been started to fend off the chill, Lana gave him a wry smile, "I don't blame you."  
Then smile vanished as she felt something. Teagan nodded to them both before leaving the room. Apparently sensing it as well, Alistair sighed, pulled out the sword he kept concealed by the desk and slung the belt so that he could draw the weapon. Just in case. "How many do you think? Two or three?"  
Lana tilted her head and stretched out the sense that had gotten far too much use ever since that dreadful night at Ostagar. "Two. And they're still at the entrance, so I guess they're going to be polite for now."  
"That's actually better than the previous...visitors."  
Her eyes chilled, "Oh?"  
"Ye-es," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "They tried barging right in. Apparently they thought me being King gave them certain leeway."  
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"  
"Because you probably would have done something they would've regretted."  
An evil smile tugged at one corner of her mouth, "I did do something they regretted."  
"Yes, but it was temporary. Had you known about the start of their visit, it would've been more permanent."  
One eyebrow arched up, "And you think humiliation isn't permanent?"  
He frowned, "I didn't think you humiliated them."  
"Really? Try looking at it from their perspective."  
"I'd really rather not", he said with a grimace.  
"How would you feel if a girl half your size took you out with what are essentially large wooden sticks?"  
"Since it was you, be grateful that's all you did."  
She laughed. "And if it was someone else?"  
He shrugged with another frown, "Figured that I got what I deserved."  
"Alistair, I love you", she sighed.  
"I sense a but in there somewhere", he said with a small grin.  
"Not a but, just... you really can't see why they would be upset at what I did?"  
"No. You're a Warden, which should have told them everything they needed to know. Instead they chose to insult you and all that you've done." His expression hardened, "Insulted all of us. And if they feel humiliated by the fact they were defeated by the woman who killed the archdemon, well, they deserve that too."  
Smiling a little, she walked over to hug him only to find herself pulled onto his lap and tucked up against him, wet hair and all. He gently rubbed her arms, then noticed she wasn't wearing her boots. In a gently scolding tone, said, "You're freezing, Marlana. Why don't you go get changed into something warm and dry? It's not like we're on the road anymore. And where are your boots?"  
Absently, she gestured over to the fireplace where she'd stashed her boots beside her cloak as she asked, "What about the Wardens?"  
His mouth compressed into a thin line, "To the Black City with them. They can wait."  
Lana eased off his lap when a knock sounded at the door. Grumbling a bit, Alistair called out, "Yes?"  
The door eased open, revealing Edwards looming in the doorway looking grim, "My Lady, Your Majesty, I'm sorry to bother you, but you have... visitors asking to see you." A small part of Lana's mind was amused at the fact she was addressed before Alistair and the way the guardsman expressed his disgust at the way he said visitors.  
Repressing another sigh, Alistair leaned back into his seat, "The same ones Lana picked up on?"  
"Yes, Sire."  
"Fine, have them put somewhere to cool their heels for a bit until we're ready. Maybe have them served some tea or something. In the mean time, get yourself changed and something hot in you. You look even more bedraggled than Lana. That's an order, Corporal", he added as Edwards hesitated. "We're safe enough here."  
The Corporal saluted and walked off, the squelching of his waterlogged boots on the carpeting was audible, even through the closed door. Both Alistair and Lana winced in sympathy for the person given the task to clean up the mess. Mock pouting, she commented, "You would find the one guard who is as overprotective as you are."  
He just grinned in response.  
Lana leaned in to kiss him long, slow and sweetly before she silently padded out on her bare feet, neatly avoiding the wet spots left by Edwards's boots. Once she was gone, Alistair heaved a sigh of relief. At least Oogie hadn't followed her in. He'd learned to deal with the stench of wet dog when they were on the road. But now that they weren't...  
He shook himself to refocus on the matter at hand. More Wardens. Wasn't that just great? Trying to keep from working himself up too much, Alistair began to put away the paperwork he'd been going over with Teagan, not wanting any potential secrets to be seen by possibly unfriendly eyes.  
Lana returned just after a servant brought in soup and hot tea and Alistair didn't try hiding his sigh this time. She'd chosen to go fully formal in her black and silver armor, with her, now dry, hair bound up in black ribbons and at her hips were the dragonbone sword and dagger that were once carried by Duncan. She took in his expression, "Don't start."  
One eyebrow went up, "I wasn't saying anything."  
"You were thinking though."  
He laughed, "I think you're the only person who has ever made me thinking sound like a bad thing. Usually I'm yelled at for doing the opposite."  
"Alistair", she said exasperated, "you thinking isn't a bad thing. I just didn't want you to grumble at me about the armor."  
After sipping some of the soup, he replied, "It's not just the armor. It's the armor, the weapons and how you tied up your hair. I suppose I should be grateful there aren't any red ribbons."  
"I'm not out to kill them. But I am somewhat put out by the rest of our supposed Brothers and Sisters. Besides, there's been just enough time for those two charming souls to have gotten to Vigil's Keep and a response to come back to us."  
He grimaced, "Too true." He drank some more soup, "But really, fully armed and armored?"  
She didn't say anything, just looked at the sword he had slung over the back of his seat. Granted it wasn't the enchanted blade that had been found by Maric in the Deep Roads, that was kept with his official armor, but it was still a good weapon. Especially for a "just in case" scenario. "Point. Taken."  
As they finished their food and poured more tea, they quietly discussed what they would do depending on what the newcomers did. Eyes bright with determination, Lana said with quiet forcefulness, "I swear, Alistair. If they're anything like Odaus and Chen, I will kick out every non-Ferelden Warden out of this country."  
The fierce light faded and she considered what she'd just spoken and said, "Well, maybe not all of them. Delindro has proven himself useful."  
Alistair's warm laughter filled the room, "This is why I love you."  
She wrinkled her nose up at him, then huffed out her breath, "Might as well get it over and done with."  
Nodding his agreement, Alistair got to his feet to go to the door. Having gotten used to the King's quirks, a page was stationed nearby. The boy was sent to get a servant to collect the dishes and get more tea before fetching their uninvited guests. When he sat back down, Lana shook her head.  
"What?"  
A small smile warmed her eyes, "You know, there's a reason why they have the bellpull here." She nodded to the soft velvet rope tucked discretely into a corner near Alistair's chair behind the desk.  
He shrugged uncomfortably, "I know that there's servants here for a reason, and while I'm getting used to being served, there's just something... off about using that... thing."  
Her smile grew a bit more, "And this is why I love you."  
The laughter in his eyes spoiled the frown he gave her. He poured them both more tea, mock shuddering at the amount of honey she put into hers and asked, "So what is Delindro up to anyway?"  
"He's been doing some tentative recruiting, but with today's weather being so miserable, he's trying to organize the mess that Loghain's goons did to the records here. Thank the Maker that they didn't find the important information. Though we're still trying to figure out what in the Abyss he did with the archdemon blood."  
"Ugh." Alistair shook his head, "I don't think I want to know. At least there aren't any unexplained Blighted areas where it might have been disposed of."  
Both fell silent as they felt the other Wardens approach, though Alistair tilted his head with a confused look. Worriedly, Lana asked, "What's wrong, love?"  
"I'm...not sure. One of them seems familiar, but that can't be right."  
Twisting the end of her braid in her hands, Lana shrugged slightly, "Neither feels familiar, but I don't know if that's a good thing or not."  
A knock sounded then the door opened with Edwards in fresh gear, "Your Majesty, there's a Warden Euphrobia and Warden Kendrick to see you."  
The shocked look on his face worried Lana, "Are you all right?"  
"I...I don't know. Tell me, is this Warden Kendrick a nondescript type of man, looks to be in his thirties?"  
Edwards was startled, "Yes, how?"  
Lana watched him, eyes dark with concern, "Alistair, you look like you've seen a ghost."  
He passed one slightly shaky hand over his face, "I might as well have. Send them in, please."  
Torn over following his King's orders and the duty he felt in protecting his charges from what could be some sort of threat, Edwards hesitated. Lana placed a gloved hand on the hilt of her sword in wordless reassurance. Finally he stepped back and allowed the two Wardens to enter.  
First was a tall woman who was almost easily the same height as Alistair, she carried herself with the ease of one who was used to being in command. Judging by the plate armor she wore, she was just as much as a warrior. She kept her dark blond hair chin length, her skin was burnt dark from time spent under the harsh sun that only served to set off her forest green eyes.  
Behind her was a man of average height and features, wearing battered leather armor, his shaggy, brown hair just touching his shoulders, his brown eyes were weary. Frown lines made him seem older than the woman he accompanied for all that he was actually a few years younger. His brown eyes widened at the sight of the younger man, "Alistair? Lad, is that really you?"  
"Kendrick?" Alistair asked in a hoarse voice, "You're alive... I can scarcely believe it..."  
Not quite sure what she was feeling, Lana watched in silence as the two men strode over to each other to first grip fists then give one another back-slapping hugs. Bemusedly, Euphrobia commented quietly to Lana in a rich contralto, "He said he'd hoped that the new King was the Alistair he knew. Apparently, he is."  
Slowly, so as to not startle the men who had now stood back from each other as they both started talking at once to get caught up, Lana got to her feet. And mentally grumbled at yet another person who towered over her, but cordially held out her hand in greetings after pulling off her gauntlets, "Marlana Cousland"  
Her hand was engulfed by the other's, and the taller woman ruefully said, "Euphrobia of the Anderfels, and glad to meet you." She sighed, "And you have my apologies at my lack of manners, you weren't quite what I expected. Or to see such a happy reunion for once."  
Smiling softly, Lana nodded her agreement as Alistair walked over to her, his eyes bright with pure joy. He put one arm around her shoulders, "Love, I'd like to introduce you to Kendrick. He's the one who led my group in collecting the blood for my Joining, then later helped me ride herd on Daveth and Jory. And Kendrick, I'd like you to meet Marlana."  
The way he said her name made Lana flush, partly out of embarrassment, but mostly happiness as she clasped hands with Kendrick and he commented. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the mysterious young woman from Highever."  
She frowned at Kendrick's comment and Alistair coughed slightly, "Lana, as I told you when we first met, Duncan had sent word that you were the recruit he found. Kendrick was there when I received his letter."  
Kendrick cast a sly glance at the two, "So has she proven to be the trouble that you expected?"  
Alistair coughed again as he blushed slightly as Lana looked between the two men wondering what they were going on about. While Kendrick smirked at Alistair's reaction, neither of them chose to elaborate on the comment.  
Hoping to break the odd tension and not wanting to leave the last person out, Lana gestured to Euphrobia, "My dear, I'd like you to meet Euphrobia who hails from the very distant Anderfels."  
His eyes were slightly wary as he shifted around Lana to shake hands with Euphrobia without letting his lady go, and not so incidentally putting most of his bulk between them. Sapphire eyes narrowed as the silver-haired woman slanted a look up at him in exasperation. She had a good idea that Euphrobia was a representative from Weisshaupt and didn't see any need to antagonize the woman just yet. She hissed just loud enough for his ears alone, "Alistair."  
"Please, take a seat, there's some fresh tea, or if you want something stronger, I can probably find something."  
As the two newcomers settled down in chairs in front of the desk, Alistair dragged another chair to the side of his desk and had Lana sit there. Not bothering to keep her voice down, Lana grumbled, "Alistair, you're being rude."  
He grunted in response causing a suspicious sounding cough from Euphrobia. Looking out of the corner of one eye, Lana saw the other woman keeping a hand over her mouth, though her eyes twinkled with amusement. Kendrick didn't try to hide his grin at the situation. Torn between the desire to kick Alistair in the ass and sinking into the floor out of embarrassment, Lana turned bright red as she removed her weapons belt to hang it on the back of the chair before sitting down.  
Before he sat down, Alistair did make sure both Kendrick and Euphrobia had drinks at hand and that they didn't want anything else. There was none of his customary good humor, or even the happiness at the fact that Kendrick was alive in his manner as he studied their most recent Warden visitors. "Anderfels", he said musingly, "I'm amazed Weisshaupt sent their representative here so quickly when it took the Orlesian branch of the Order so long to send people."  
Calmly sipping her tea, Euphrobia gave Alistair a moment to finish before replying. "I was sent before the Blight ended. Our Antivan and Nevarran Brothers and Sisters sent people to help with the Blight when the nightmares started. There wasn't any word from them after they went into Orlais."  
Exchanging glances, both the King and his betrothed didn't hide their worry, or their additional dismay. Slowly, as she gathered her thoughts, the young woman said, "I hate to admit it, love, but maybe Loghain was right in some of his paranoia about the Order in Orlais..."  
Clenching his jaw, he nodded very slightly, "But the rest of what he did-"  
"Was inexcusable", she finished coldly. Alistair nodded again.  
Kendrick and Euphrobia watched the exchange nervously, not hiding their curiosity about what the two were talking about, but at the same time not wanting to draw any of that anger their way. Rubbing her forehead, Lana turned towards them, and while her eyes still held a chill, it wasn't directed at them. "Well, there's at least one of our Antivan Brothers who is alive and well. Delindro's in the Denerim compound at the moment trying to get things organized."  
Relief caused the Anders woman to close her eyes and whisper, "Thank the Maker."  
Turning grim, Alistair asked, "Was it worse there than he told us?"  
The dark green eyes reopened as their owner didn't bother to hide her fury, "I don't know what kind of games some of them thought they were playing, but they won't be playing them for long. I left most of my escort there to clean up the mess and brought some of those they had been keeping as... guests instead. Wardens have no business playing politics."  
Another exchange of looks between Alistair and Lana, before she said, "Believe me, we would have preferred not to, but under the circumstances..."  
"There had been word sent back to us about some of the situation, but it wasn't terribly clear about exactly what happened. Only that most of the Ferelden Order had been betrayed and slaughtered along with King Cailan. And that one of the last two Wardens still alive was made King."  
Taking the unspoken cue, Alistair sighed again, "There's one thing you need to understand, the time spent trying to gather the forces needed to end the Blight was a period of insanity with long intervals of horrible sanity. So if we aren't clear, don't hesitate to ask questions."  
Euphrobia frowned, "Shouldn't that be the other way around?"  
Shaking her head, Lana replied, "No, otherwise we would never have gotten through that waking nightmare."  
Frowning still, Euphrobia sat back in her chair, "Perhaps you should start at the beginning if you don't mind?"  
Even though she had told her tale more than once, it still wasn't easy. As she'd done before, when she could, Lana got to her feet to get something to lace her tea with. The events were still raw for her, even a year later. When Alistair accepted the whiskey for his tea, Kendrick asked, brow crinkling with concern, "Was it really that bad, Your Majesty?"  
"Alistair. I'd like to think there's still some friendship between us, Kendrick. Besides we're all Wardens, and since you're not asses like those two from Orlais, you have every right to call me by name", he snapped. "And it was worse."  
Troubled, Kendrick fell silent as Lana started with their story with the day Duncan arrived at Castle Cousland, and the subsequent night of blood and fire from Howe's treachery. Alistair would pick up the thread when she couldn't talk any longer, then when she was ready, she took back over. For the next few hours they told their tale in full once again. This time the Wardens listening were clearly upset, but not at them. Or their decisions.  
They took one brief break for additional refreshments to be brought in. Nothing was said as the two Wardens who bore the brunt of the horrors obviously tried to collect themselves to finish. Neither of the older ones said anything, but their faces clearly spoke of their compassion for the two. Though they were disturbed about Avernus and his experiments.  
Even more so that Marlana had used the results of said experimentation.  
Finally Alistair tiredly ended the story, "The explosion from the death of the archdemon knocked us all off our feet. When I saw Lana laying the way she was... I thought she was dead. But she was still alive." His eyes spoke of the grief he felt at the time and the heart-breaking joy at the fact she was still breathing. "It was very touch and go at first... The healers weren't sure they could..."  
In silence, Lana placed one hand on his, reassuring him that she was indeed still there. For an uncomfortable moment, Kendrick and Euphrobia were also quiet. Something was clearly on their minds. Finally the older woman rubbed her forehead, "Forgive me, but there's one thing I'm wondering about that you haven't mentioned."  
"And that is?" Lana asked warily.  
"How did you get the ritual to work?"  
Blond and silvery brows went up at the same time in confusion, but it was Lana who asked, "What ritual?"  
For the first time, Euphrobia's expression hardened, "Don't. You know damn well what ritual I'm talking about, Marlana Cousland."  
The feigned astonishment faded as brown and blue eyes met. He nodded imperceptibly. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, her hand seeking his out, while through their bond she felt his warm solidity acting as support. "Compatible souls."  
"Excuse me?"  
"The soul of the Warden... it has to be compatible in some way to that of the old god that once was. And...a price has to be paid by both."  
"What kind of price?" Kendrick asked cautiously when Lana didn't elaborate.  
She regarded them both warily, having told them far more than she ever intended. Alistair gently ran his thumb along the back of her hand in a soothing gesture, still offering his support, but not pressuring her. "I've told you more than I should have, but since you knew about the ritual..."  
Dark green eyes studied Lana over steepled fingers which were met by cool sapphire ones. Slowly Euphrobia dropped her hands into her lap, "Then, can you tell us how to determine this compatibility you speak of."  
Restless, Lana gently removed her hand from Alistair's and started to pace. "I don't know, but I suspect Flemeth could tell somehow, the way she spoke of my...potential."  
"Your potential specifically? Not Alistair's, or the other two recruits...Daveth and Jory I believe you said their names were."  
The silver-white braid bobbed as the young woman nodded her head, but it was Alistair who answered, "Yes, she was quite clear about Lana's potential. She had made a remark about Jory being irrelevant at the time. The comment didn't really mean anything until much later. Obviously we couldn't do anything about it then."  
Lana made a disgusted sound, "Honestly, I'm not surprised considering how he acted the entire time we were in the Wilds. I thought he was going to fall over in fear the first time we encountered darkspawn."  
Somewhat mildly, Kendrick said, "They are rather horrific the first time you encounter them."  
She shrugged in response. If he couldn't understand that hunting monsters was far easier than killing fellow humans, then that was his problem. She was in no mood to explain why she had no problems in the Wilds.  
"Flemeth", Euphrobia said musingly, "Even we have heard tales of her. Are you sure this was the infamous Witch of the Wilds that you spoke with? That supposedly saved you?"  
Alistair sighed, "She turned into a sodding highdragon, if she wasn't the same Flemeth from the tales, then she was a powerful enough mage to lay claim to that name. And it had to have been someone who saved us, I remember getting knocked out when the darkspawn swarmed the tower. It was a real surprise to wake up in a hut. Even if it was in the company of a pair of bitchy apostates."  
Unspoken was the worry he'd felt when he'd seen Lana pale and unconscious in the only bed of the hut. They'd barely known each other then, and he had somewhat resented that she was the only Warden there, but she was still a Warden. Not only a Warden, but someone he'd already began to like as a friend.  
"Yes, the apostates, or should say apostate", Euphrobia murmured, "You mentioned this Morrigan several times. Where is she?"  
"Gone", Lana said quietly. "She'd been upfront that she was with us to end the Blight. With the archdemon dead, the Blight was done. All that was left was the cleanup which she never said she would help with."  
"She was the one who knew about the ritual then? And presumably the one that has the...child?"  
Another shrug from Lana. Euphrobia's mouth tightened, "Marlana, I'm not trying to be harsh, but you have put us into a difficult situation -"  
"Difficult!" Marlana yelled, eyes blazing with sudden fury, "You don't know what difficult is, Warden! You weren't there to see the Blight first hand. You weren't a newly made Warden who had lost everything in the world and found out that it was up to you and a man who hadn't been one much longer to stop it! Well, we did stop it, and if what we did made itdifficultfor you, well, tough."  
A tense silence reigned. Kendrick sighed, "I am sorry, lass, for heading to Orlais. When I woke up in that valley after the massacre... I truly thought all the Ferelden Wardens were gone. How I made it to Orlais without being stopped, I don't know. We didn't hear word about your actions until a few months later, I wanted to return, but I was kept as one of their damned guests until Euphrobia arrived."  
With her back to the other two, Lana gave Alistair a questioning look, wondering if she dared tell them everything. Looking troubled, Alistair shrugged slightly, clearly torn himself.  
Tired of all the lies, evasions and half-truths, Lana sighed. If they reacted badly...they wouldn't leave the room alive. After the behavior of the other two Wardens, no one would be surprised. If anything, people had wondered that the two Orlesians had been allowed to join their brethren in Amaranthine.  
"Fine. Yes, Morrigan is the one who knew of the ritual and performed it with Alistair. She's the one bearing the child and I truly don't know where she went."  
Very carefully, Euphrobia asked, "Are you sure she can be trusted with such power?"  
"Yes." The conviction in that deceptively simple word floored the listeners except Alistair, who had eventually come to terms with the situation.  
"You know that the Wardens will seek her out."  
Finally Lana turned to face them, her expression solemn, "That wouldn't be a good idea. She is a very powerful mage and an exceedingly intelligent woman who knows how to evade anyone stupid enough to hunt her."  
"Lass...we have to. If only to make sure the babe won't call the darkspawn to it", Kendrick quietly said.  
"He no longer has that siren's call."  
Breathlessly, Euphrobia commented, "I'm afraid to ask how you know this."  
Cold sapphire eyes stared at them, "You wanted to know the price I paid? It's this. I gave up slivers of my very being in exchange for the god's. It purged his soul of whatever it was that called the monsters to him and his siblings and was what allowed him to be reborn in mortal flesh. Since we're not overrun with darkspawn I obviously don't carry the call. And I've been examined by enough mages and templars to be declared free of possession."  
Kendrick didn't hide his horrified expression, yet oddly Euphrobia nodded as if something long suspected had been confirmed. "Our scholars had often wondered why it didn't work. It makes sense now. Particularly if even just one of the... parties involved doesn't agree."  
She tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lips as she thought something over. "I know you're probably expecting me to order to Weisshaupt, Marlana. And that was my initial intention before I spoke with you and Alistair. However..."  
As Kendrick started to object, she held up a hand, "However, I know you won't accept orders from someone you don't know and hadn't proven themselves. Which I can accept and know the First Warden will also. But on one condition."  
"And that is?" Alistair asked warily as Lana resumed pacing.  
"That Marlana allow a representative from Wiesshaupt to examine her from time to time. Between Avernus's little experiment and the ritual, well, I just want to make sure nothing untoward happens to her. He, or she, will be the soul of discretion." She added at Lana's narrow eyed stare.  
"Forgive me, but what's the catch?"  
"That's the only catch. Not that I wouldn't love for you and Alistair to come to Weisshaupt to teach other Wardens. You ended a Blight in a little over a year. While I'm sure there parts that are going to be tainted for a very long time, most of your country will recover." She didn't hide the awe in her voice, "All the other Blights lasted decades, if not longer."  
Lana rubbed her temples, "It might be from the fact we didn't have any preconceptions. I approached the Blight like I would any other war the way my father had taught me. And truthfully, I think we were just extraordinarily lucky."  
Euphrobia gave her a long look, but didn't say anything. Lana sighed again, "And speaking of preconceptions..."  
"And that is?"  
"Riordan, then later the oh-so-very-charming Odaus both said that darkspawn are empty, soulless vessels. Which is how the archdemon is able to be reborn each time if not slain by a Warden."  
There were cautious nods from Euphrobia and Kendrick, Alistair having heard what she was about to say before this simply looked grim. "It's not true."  
"What? How can you say that?" Kendrick growled.  
"Having had time to consider everything... they have to have compatible souls. I have it on good authority that the blood shapes the soul. Since they're born Tainted, they're already shaped. Since Wardens ingest the blood and are changed, it changes them enough to attract the soul, but-"  
"But if they're not fully compatible, both die as happened in past Blights." Euphrobia finished.  
"Well, so we're going to assume the ritual didn't work. For all we know, it did and the Wardens died of their wounds."  
Shaking her head, Euphrobia said, "The children didn't...quicken."  
"I...see", Lana said sadly.  
Turning a bit brisk, Euphrobia stood, "I think that's enough of such gloomy talk for now. Anyway, I've made up my mind, and as the First Warden's Second, I name Marlana Cousland as  
Warden-Commander of Ferelden. We'll have to draw up the fancy document at some point."  
Wondering what exactly had happened, Lana rubbed the back of her head, "Don't you usually chose someone a little older and more experienced?"  
Euphrobia laughed long and loud. "My dear Marlana, you led a small band of intrepid adventurers against the Blight and the combined might of the Ferelden government and won. You even lived to tell the tale and get your prince as well. If there's anyone more qualified, I don't know who is."  
As the young woman blushed, Alistair snickered a bit, "She does have you there, m'dear."  
Lana eyed the Second cautiously, "So what new and unspeakable oaths do I need to swear? And is this going to conflict with my larger duties to Ferelden."  
She chuckled again, "Oh, nothing so terrible. Just remember the oaths you have now, and I suspect that you've been doing a Commander's duty anyway. But now you have the authority to back you up when you need it."  
Thoughtfully, Lana nodded. Sapphire eyes were full of speculation, some of which would probably have made certain individuals, were they there, to feel a little twitchy.  
A small smirk curved Euphrobia's mouth at the sight, having gotten an idea of what kind of person she'd just put in charge of the Ferelden Wardens. And the rude surprise that was in store for some of the Orlesians in Vigil's Keep. Then it shifted to a warmer expression, "Marlana perhaps you'd be kind enough to show me the way to the compound here in Denerim to see if there's enough room for my escort and I."  
"I'll be glad to show you, but it's still a disaster. I'm sure we can find room here in the palace."  
"Never the less..." The taller woman slanted a glance towards the men. Lana nodded her understanding as she grabbed her weapons belt to sling it back around her hips, the tilted her head curiously, "So where are the other Wardens that came with you?"  
"Heading towards an inn named the Silver Griffin of all things. But one of the gate guards suggested it."  
Both Alistair and Lana exchanged amused glances causing a questioning look. Getting back to his feet, Alistair walked over to Lana, but addressed the Anders woman with surprising good humor after the tense discussions, "It was once called the Golden Sheaf, we'd stayed there a time or two when we had to stay in Denerim." He gently tugged on his lady's braid, "Lana here missed the creature comforts of a real bed and not having to cook for everyone."  
"Oh yes, like I'm the one who complained about sleeping on the cold ground."  
Mock innocently, "I have no idea what you're talking about."  
"Uh huh." But she smiled warmly when he leaned in to kiss her check, before she stretched up to return the sign of affection. Kendrick watched the two without saying a word, but there was a smile tugging at his lined mouth and his eyes held a great deal of approval. The Second kept a blank expression, but even her eyes smiled a bit at the sight of the two. Neither had said much about their relationship, but throughout the time they spoke of all they went through, the bond between them was clear to see.  
Flushing again at the scruinty, Lana gave a sheepish smile, "Well, Second Warden, ready for the tour, such as it is?"  
Grinning, "No need for such formality, I think. Please call me Euphrobia."  
"Thank the Maker, I prefer Lana."  
"In that case, lead on friend Lana."  
As the door swung shut behind the women and Edwards took up his customary guarding position of his future Queen, Lana could hear Kendrick ask, "So, just what kind of trouble is she?"


	44. Anywhere But Here

"I didn't want to speak with you, Alistair. I wanted to speak with Marlana."  
Hm, she still has a nasty glare, Alistair thought to himself as he leaned against the wall opposite where Anora stood glaring at him through the barred door. Wishing he was anywhere but where he was at the moment. And still doesn't get that she isn't in charge anymore. If she ever truly had been.  
He was desperately trying to ignore the luxurious surroundings, otherwise he was going to really lose control of his temper. Granted luxury in prison was very different from luxury in the palace, but after getting Lana out of Fort Drakon in a condition that could only be described as "mostly dead" because of the woman before him, he wasn't going to quibble about the differences.  
Jerking his thoughts away from such a dangerous subject matters he gave an insolent shrug causing the shoulders of the doublet to bunch up uncomfortably. Damn, Lana had been right about it being too tight for his build, "Maybe so, but you're dealing with me at the moment. So make it quick, I'm a busy man, Anora."  
She sneered, "What? Didn't remember everything your puppeteer told you to say to me?"  
Knowing that it would piss her off, Alistair laughed harshly, "Really, Anora. Are petty insults all that you have to say?" He shook his head as if she were a naughty child, "Well, since that's the case, I'm off to do some real work."  
As he started to walk away, Anora said in an odd tone, "Alistair, wait."  
He paused, "Yes?"  
The former queen's expression seemed troubled, "Is there a reason why she refused to see me?"  
His face hardened, "Marlana didn't refuse to see you. I refused to let her go anywhere near you. Or this place."  
"What? Why?"  
"You're seriously asking me that? After what happened to her here the last time she tried to do something at your request?"  
Having almost lost her twice in this pit, Alistair wasn't about to risk Lana a third time. Especially for Anora, when the snotty woman was responsible for Lana's imprisonment and subsequent torture. Despite Lana's protests to the contrary, he had a fairly good idea that the pigs had done more than just cut her armor off. The report he'd finally gotten about the two "guards" she'd been handed over to, the state they were in from her escape combined with the fact that there were certain intimacies she was hesitant to do... Well, it painted a clear, if incredibly horrific, picture.  
Then there was the confirmation from Cauthrien about when she'd been notified about Howe's death...  
Well, Anora was lucky that he couldn't bring himself to kill a woman in cold blood. Or have someone else kill her at his orders. Or let Lana deal with her.  
Anora spoke bitterly, "As if there's anything I could do to her here."  
"Hm, funny, I believe you had your maid say something similar when you were Howe's guest. But enough of this, I'm serious when I say I have work to do and you're keeping me from it."  
Even as the steel blue eyes tried to bore into him, he saw how her hands nervously twisted around one another. Finally she gritted out, "Maybe you are the one I should be talking to then."  
Well, that wasn't quite what he expected and he allowed a brow to arch up questioningly at her sudden change of heart. "Really now, do tell."  
Coolly, regally she said, "I want to know what you intend to do with me."  
His customary smart-ass response came out without any thought, "As little as possible if I have my way."  
The scowl that comment generated probably was warranted. Alistair sighed, "Well, the more serious response is... It entirely depends on you."  
"What do you mean by that?"  
"If you swear fealty to me, you can get out of here and become the Teyrna of Gwaren."  
Another sneer, "How generous of you to return to me what is already mine."  
"Actually, it isn't. Your father was declared a traitor. Not only does that strip him of all properties and titles, that strips the same from anyone who might have inherited from him."  
Her already pale skin turned somewhat translucent as she paled further as Alistair's harshly spoken words sank in. He gave her a hard stare and continued on, "In truth, I was tempted to declare the same of you. After all you just let him declare himself regent when you could have just taken the throne as Cailan's widow. Then you didn't do a damn thing while he and Howe proceeded to tear up Ferelden in their pride, greed and paranoia."  
She started to protest, but he rolled over her, much as he'd seen Lana do to other people in the past. Under the anger and growing disgust, he had to admit that it was fun to be the one stomping over someone who annoyed him. Even more so in this case since it was Anora he was doing the stomping on. "As if that wasn't enough, when the one person who was going to do something about the situation did finally show up, you played your petty, vicious games!"  
Now bright spots of color stood out on her cheeks as it seemed like her fury got the better of her, but Alistair wasn't entirely sold. Teagan had warned him that Anora was respected as a politician for many reasons, one of which was that she could put on a performance that rivaled a professional thespian. He couldn't understand how that was considered respectable, but then again there were reasons why he was told to hide what he was thinking behind his charm and humor. Or so he was told.  
"He was my father, how could I stop him? I don't expect a base born, fatherless, bastard like you to understand that."  
She acted as if that was the first time someone had called him that. And really, after dealing with Morrigan for a year, that was nothing. His anger faded into disgust, and he snorted, "Really Anora, for someone with your brains, I would've thought you could come up with a better answer than that. Since we've gotten down to the really stupid, petty insults portion of the day, I really am done."  
Not waiting for her to reply, Alistair pushed himself away from the wall carefully, mindful of the too tight garment that would split at the absolutely worst possible moment. Kendrick appeared at his side from the shadows he'd been lurking in during the conversation, such as it was, with Anora. The big warrior ruefully admitted to himself that Lana certainly knew how to get back at him for setting Edwards on her as personal guard by using Kendrick in a similar role. And he couldn't do a damn thing about it since as Warden Commander, Lana couldn't be countermanded by anyone except the First Warden off in distant Weisshaupt, or Euphrobia.  
Unfortunately, Euphrobia and Lana had become as thick as thieves, so the Second wasn't inclined to pull Kendrick off his guard duties. Thank the Maker that the Second Warden was on her way back to Weisshaupt in the company of the very competent mercenaries of the Red Dawn, even if she'd left the mixed lot of Antivan and Nevarran Wardens to either stay in Ferelden or go back to their home countries. So far none had elected to return. At least they were proving useful in not just helping rebuild the Order, but Ferelden as a whole in the recovery process from the Blight.  
Turning his mind away from Warden matters and to more mundane issues of trying to figure out what in the name of the Black City he was doing as King, Alistair almost missed Anora's call. It took a moment for him to figure that she was the one saying "Wait...Your Majesty."  
Not bothering to hide his irritation, Alistair stopped and stalked back to Anora's cell with a bemused Kendrick behind him and confused guards in the wake of both men. This time Kendrick didn't bother to fade into the shadows as before, instead he stood to the side and slightly to the back of Alistair. Anora frowned at the other man, but didn't comment.  
A bit more gruffly than he probably should have been, he asked, "Yes, Anora. What is it now?"  
This time her display of slight nervousness seemed genuine, "Did you truly mean it?"  
"Mean what?"  
"Your offer to return my family's lands and title."  
"Yes, subject to the proper supervision of course."  
"Of course", she said a little too blandly. Then she hesitantly asked, "And your promise?"  
His jaw clenched, remembering the promise he made if Lana had been wounded due to Anora's actions. He very badly wanted to redeem that promise in full, but this wasn't the time. If there ever would be. "In abeyance."  
"Why? Not that I'm ungrateful..."  
"Because wiser heads convinced me that you would be more useful alive as Teyrna of Gwaren." Teagan had been the most outspoken about keeping the woman alive and giving her back the teyrnir. As much as Alistair had wanted to reject the idea, his adoptive uncle and Chancellor did have a good point. The few nobles that still supported the Mac Tirs might be persuaded to be a bit more cooperative if Anora was somewhat restored to power. Besides it made him look the better person by trying to work things out with an opponent.  
Even if he would rather see her dead for her actions.  
But he would never allow her another opportunity for the throne. Since Fergus was alive, he'd arranged to make the man his heir if something happened to Alistair or Lana. The eldest Cousland had grumbled and protested, but had eventually given in.  
She frowned and carefully asked, "And Marlana's response?"  
Alistair shrugged, "She agreed."  
He wasn't about to mention how his beloved had paced back and forth as she thought over Teagan's reasoning, fury in every lithe movement. When she finally stopped, the blank stare had been unnerving, even more unnerving was the emptiness in Lana's voice as she said, "Very well. In the interest of rebuilding Ferelden, I agree."  
The former queen was silent for a moment, then tightly said, "Then I'd be a fool not to do so as well."  
Alistair raised his brow again, "So you're agreed to the terms?"  
"Yes. I will swear fealty to you as my king in return to having Gwaren restored to me as my teyrnir. Under proper supervision as you said."  
Hoping that he wasn't making one of the biggest mistakes of his life, Alistair silently blew out his breath, "Good. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon in court."  
"What? So soon?" It gave him a surge of dark satisfaction to see her so startled.  
"I thought you were eager to get out of here."  
"I am, but -", She hesitated.  
"You need time to get prepared and make yourself presentable."  
Alistair really wondered how he could keep rendering Anora speechless. Before the Landsmeet the woman wouldn't shut up the few times he encountered her when he couldn't avoid her at Eamon's estate. While he could be oblivious to things, living with four women, even if it was on the road, a man couldn't help but learn about female quirks. Like the fact they had a thing about their appearance, a trait that even Lana had for all that she rejected what was considered normal feminine attire.  
At least her quirk was mainly being clean, like Wynne, though at least she wasn't as obnoxious about it. He still cringed in remembrance about how particular Morrigan and Leliana could be, despite the fact they were almost constantly on the go or in combat. Alistair really didn't want to think about how bad Leliana was now that she was settled down in one spot.  
"Yes. I don't suppose you'll allow Erlina to attend to me?"  
Shale's favorite curse pigeoncrap was the first thing that came to mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm sorry, Anora, truly I am, that no one thought to tell you why Erlina hasn't been here with you."  
"What happened?"  
He sighed heavily and forced himself to face the agitated woman, "I"m terribly sorry, but she'd been Tainted..."  
Numbly, Anora nodded as he trailed off. He swallowed, he hated that particular duty of being a Warden, but one he'd performed so that no one else would be exposed to the corruption. "For what it's worth, we did see to it that she was given proper rites by the Chantry."  
She nodded and said dully, "Thank you, send whomever you wish, then. I will see you at court tomorrow."  
As he started to walk away, he realized that maybe he had fulfilled a good bit of that promise made in anger. It didn't bring him any type of satisfaction. While he wanted to see Anora dead, he didn't want to inflict such emotional pain on her. It's why he limited how much he said about her father. The man may have been a treacherous bastard, but he was still her father and he couldn't use that kind of thing as a weapon. Or at least anymore than he already had.  
Once outside the prison, Alistair took a moment to take a few deep, shuddering breaths to collect himself from the horrified memories the place had stirred up. Proceeding to the waiting carriage, Alistair hoped that Lana was having a better morning than he was.  
As the carriage began its slow journey back to the palace, Alistair cheered himself up somewhat at the potentially entertaining story of the latest seamstress that his betrothed had scared off. He didn't know anything about women's clothing, but the samples he'd seen...  
Hideous was the only word he could come up with.  
-oOo-  
Sitting with Leliana and Banns Rowena and Alfstanna while waiting for the latest dressmaker to arrive, Lana wished she was anywhere but where she was. Not that she didn't understand the need to be fitted for a dress for her wedding to come in three months, but it was the styles that were being inflicted on her that was causing most of her objections. They were either the tight fitting Orlesian gowns that she loathed with a passion, or frothy confections that must have weighed as much as Alistair's armor.  
If she was going to wear armor to her wedding, she was going to wear that lovely set that Wade offered to make out of archdemon wing. Lana sighed, a combination of wistfulness and annoyance. Alistair got to wear armor, why couldn't she? Oh, right, tradition.  
Normally she'd say sod tradition, but Alistair had given her that look, the one that was far more soulful than anything any puppy or kitten could come up with and had gently commented that he'd like to see her in a dress for their wedding. She'd never been able to say no to that look, something he knew quite well, but was smart enough not to abuse.  
So here she was, waiting for yet another idiot seamstress when she could be doing something that was much more useful. Which involved not getting stuck with pins. Leliana and Rowena had knowing looks on their faces as Alfstanna gave her a quizzical look at the soft sigh. The younger Bann took a sip of her tea before saying, "I bet it's the fact she's here and not doing something she thinks is more important."  
Lana said somewhat defensively, "Well, there is still a lot that needs to be done."  
Alfstanna shook her head, "There's always a lot to be done, but you need to take time for this. While you can tell your chamberlain how to arrange the reception, I don't think anyone else is brave enough to pick out your dress for you."  
"Stupid enough, you mean", Rowena commented, her eyes twinkling with unvoiced laughter. All three grinned as Lana muttered, "I'm not that bad."  
There was laughter as Leliana grinned, "No, you are worse!"  
As Lana shook her head with a bemused expression, feeling mixed emotions over the three women who decided to help her with the wedding. The dress portion of it at any rate. It was moments like this that made her heart ache. It should have been her mother, Gwen and Oriana sitting here with her. Trying to shake off her melancholy, she picked up a cookie and bit fiercely into it.  
Leliana gave her a look full of sympathy. While Lana hadn't told the other woman all of her heartaches, she had told the bard a few times how the loss of her family still hurt. Particularly at times like this one, where close family and friends should have been there with her. Not that she didn't feel a strong sense of friendship with Leli, but it wasn't the same.  
As for Rowena... She was still coming to terms with the fact that the young Bann was no longer the fluttery, clotheshorse she once knew. Despite the vapid airs the girl put on, she'd been likable and found the tomboyish Marlana very interesting due to their differences. While neither girl had told their parents of the few sword lessons Lana had taught her on the sly, the new Bann had admitted they saved her life. A darkspawn raid had claimed the lives of her parents and her older sister. All that saved her was the lessons she'd gotten from Lana and the practice she had managed to sneak in.  
Like so many other families, both high and low born, the Appleboughs had seen devastating losses during the Blight. Of a large, rambunctious family, only Rowena, her two young siblings and a small handful of cousins were all that remained.  
While Lana couldn't help all the people she wanted to, she could at least give Rowena a much needed distraction with a favorite pastime the other noblewoman didn't think she would be able to indulge in again. Besides, at least Rowena had taste and understood just what Lana was looking for in a dress.  
Maker knew, Lana did care for Leli, but the woman was still way too fond of Orlesian clothing and shoes.  
She slanted a glance over at Alfstanna who was still gossiping in good humor with Rowena. At first Lana thought the older Bann was attaching herself to her coattails, so to speak, as a way to get in with the new king. But when Alfstanna hadn't done any of the expected subtle hints a noble of her age and experience would use, the future queen became curious. It was that curiosity that led to the invitation to Alfstanna. The other, more central reason, was simply that she'd come to like the woman.  
Though something was clearly bothering Alfstanna when she arrived that morning, yet she denied that anything was wrong when gently asked. That was fine, Lana had learned patience and would bide her time.  
A soft knock at the door interrupted her musing as the other three fell silent as Lana called out, "Yes?"  
Dee opened the door, her normally cheerful expression shrouded with concern, "The dressmaker and her assistant are here."  
"Is there something wrong?"  
The maid shifted uncomfortably, "Not wrong exactly, milady..."  
A pale brow winged up, "But?"  
Another uncomfortable shuffling of the feet, "She doesn't seem to be the type who serves nobles."  
Lana managed to keep from making an exasperated sound. The maid was a cheerful, hardworking, young woman. One that was also smart enough and clever enough to adapt to her lady's quirks.  
However, Dee was something of a snob towards other people in service positions. An attitude that irritated Lana to no end and was slowly breaking the maid of. Until she was successful, she just had to deal with it. For the most part she would deal with it. Marlana refused to see any type of disrespect be shown to anyone else, regardless of their position in society.  
"Dee", she said warningly. The maid colored in embarrassment, but the young noblewoman continued without directly commenting on the other young woman's reaction, "As long as they're considered presentable to go about in public, I'm sure they'll be fine."  
"Yes, m'lady, they are. I'll go get them now." Still somewhat red in the face, Dee bobbed a curtsy before closing the door. As Lana sighed and rubbed her forehead Rowena cast her an odd look.  
"If I may be so bold, Lana. Why do you put up with that girl? Surly it's not that hard to find decent servants, even with Denerim in the state its in."  
A slight chill entered Lana's eyes, "Dee is really quite good at what she does, but she's also a superior lady's maid. One who tends to think overly much of my position."  
Rowena stared at Lana incredulously and sputtered, "But...you're the one who slew the archdemon! Not to mention, you're the one who got the Landsmeet to give King Alistair his throne. Who you happen to be getting married to in a few months. And you're saying she thinks too much of your position?"  
Leliana took a sip of her tea to keep from snickering, though her crystal blue eyes danced with amusement while Alfstanna didn't bother to hide her grin. Frowning slightly, Lana studied the other three women. Another knock on the door saved her from answering.  
This time when Dee opened the door, she was much more subdued. Demurely she said, "M'lady, Mistress Rosemary and her assistant Tansy."  
She gently ushered in an older woman with a stout figure, whose round, apple cheeked face was creased with smile lines and graying hair was tucked under a simple kerchief. Her blouse and skirt, though plain, were made of good cloth and fine needlework. The assistant remained in Rosemary's shadow for the moment. Though there was a startled murmur in a young feminine voice that was quickly hushed by the older woman.  
Dee quietly asked, "Was there anything else you, or your guests needed, m'lady?"  
At the discreet headshakes from the three "advisers", Lana smiled, "We're fine, thank you. Did you or your helper need anything, Mistress Rosemary?"  
She asked that in all sincerity, used to her parents way of treating tradespeople as guests, forgetting that most, including those of "lesser" rank, often didn't do so. Or at least it wasn't common in Denerim, which Lana was forcibly reminded as the seamstress hastily said, much like previous dressmakers before her, "Oh no, we're fine."  
Well, at least the woman didn't react with horror like the others had. Just mortification.  
Dee curtsied again, "If you need me, m'lady, just call."  
"Thank you, Dee."  
Lana returned her attention to Rosemary, "Thank you for coming all the way out here. Please, have a seat."  
When the older woman was about to politely decline, Lana just smiled warmly at her. Having never been at the receiving end of a personality like the young woman's, Rosemary found herself seated, accepting a cup of tea and sharing the current market gossip. Lana did that for two reasons. One to try to put Rosemary at ease since it was obvious the seamstress was terrified of who she was to attend to. The other to see if there were rumors Lana needed to hear.  
Not for the first time Marlana wished for loyal eyes and ears to go where she couldn't. It wasn't that she wanted to spy on anyone in particular. But she felt cut off from the world now that people instantly recognized her when she was out and about so she couldn't eavesdrop on conversations like she used to. Not that she couldn't sneak away from her guards and lurk about in shadows.  
However, sneaking about like that required a good bit of effort, and ditching her guards wasn't worth the hue and cry they'd cause when they realized what she did. Which would cause Alistair a lot of worry. Something Lana wanted to avoid at all possible.  
Unaware of the silver-haired woman's internal musings, and since this wasn't the first time the future queen had such a chat, the two banns just smiled and went with the flow. It was probably far easier for Leliana to join the conversation than the other two, not only used to Lana's ways, but being sociable with anyone came second nature to her.  
It was during this conversation that Tansy finally came out of the older woman's shadow. And Lana was more than a little startled to see her. She knew the girl, though not her name, and the last time she'd seen her the young woman had been when Tansy was being brutalized by Howe's thugs.  
Judging by the way Tansy kept watching her, Lana figured that the girl did recognize her from that awful day. Finally she brought herself to ask Tansy, "You're doing well? No one's been bothering you?"  
Tansy nervously bobbed her head in an abbreviated curtsy, though she beamed a bright smile at Lana, "Yes m'lady, quite well! Thanks to you, Aunt Rosemary was able to get her shop started, and I have a proper dowry -"  
"Tansy, that's quite enough", Rosemary said with a touch of exasperation, but smiled fondly at her niece. Lana couldn't help smiling as well. While there were likely hidden scars the girl would bear the rest of her life, it was good to see that Tansy was starting to recover from her mistreatment.  
Then again, seeing her abusers brutally slaughtered may have helped in that regard as well.  
Once she was satisfied that Rosemary was more at ease, she cheerfully (or as cheerfully as she could, considering this whole meeting was over a blasted dress) inquired, "So what kind of samples did you bring?"  
"Oh, my lady, you should have stopped me from my blathering", the seamstress said with an embarrassed flush.  
With a smile, Lana waved off the apology, "You're fine, Mistress, truly. If there were any problems, I would have said so."  
Rosemary pulled out the battered leather portfolio that she placed at the side of her chair and carefully pulled out a thin sheaf of parchments. After carefully clearing a space, she laid them before Marlana. Who in turn studied the first sketch, then went through each one slowly, her battle-scarred hands delicately flipping through the pages. That she looked thoughtful was encouraging to the three women who had suffered through far too many meetings like this one, only Lana had recoiled at what she saw then.  
While Leliana had been somewhat miffed at her friend's reactions to the Orlesian styles, even she had to admit they didn't fit the young woman at all. Looking at the sketches over the shorter woman's shoulder, the bard privately admitted that these designs fit Lana the best.  
Before she got to the last page, Lana paused and studied one sketch in particular, ignoring the rising tensions in the room. Then she smiled. Pulling out that sketch from the others she laid it out on the table, "I like this one."  
Alfstanna was the first one to speak, the other two stunned speechless, "Really?"  
"Yes, really", she dryly said, blue eyes dancing with amusement.  
Somewhat hesitatingly, Rosemary asked, "Are you sure, my lady? There's still a few you haven't looked at..."  
Leliana finally recovered her tongue and laughingly said, "Sweet Andraste, don't get her started! She has finally found a dress she actually likes!"  
With a rueful shrug and sheepish smile, Lana nodded, her silver-white mane swishing with the movement. "I'm quite sure. Unless you don't think it'll look good on me?"  
"Oh, not at all. That will look lovely on you. I can take your measurements today and have a mock-up made so you can see if there are any changes that need to be made."  
Another warm smile, "That would be wonderful. Is there enough light and space here?"  
Rosemary studied the room thoughtfully, "This is perfect actually. More than enough space and the light is really quite good."  
"Dee will be relieved to hear that, she was worried that the room wouldn't fit what was needed. So where do you want me to stand for the first fitting?"  
Rosemary surveyed the room again, walked over to a particularly sunny area, nodded to herself, "Over here if you would, my lady." She hesitated, "And if you don't mind, I'll need you to take your outer clothing off so I have an accurate fit."  
Shrugging slightly, Lana walked over to the spot indicated, "Since we're all women, I don't mind. Though if anyone is uncomfortable I won't be offended if you leave."  
Rowena spoke for Lana's three companions, "As you said, we're all women."  
Though Lana had moments of self-consciousness when dressing about her scars, she'd forgotten that Rowena and Alfstanna hadn't seen the mementos left on her hide from all the battles she'd seen. So when she peeled off her tunic, Rosemary and Tansy weren't the only ones who made horrified gasps at the silvery marks in her golden skin. The only one who didn't was Leliana, who had been there for most of what Lana had been through.  
Resisting the urge to pull her clothing back on, Lana didn't look at anyone as she quietly said, "No matter how good you are, if you see enough fighting, you will get injured. Even healing magic can do just so much and can't prevent all scarring."  
It was Tansy who reached out to her and lightly touched the silver-haired woman's arm, "Forgive me, milady, for my reaction. It was unseemly."  
A faint smile brushed the corners of Lana's mouth, "It's quite all right." Then her tone turned a bit brisk, "Well, shall we? With my luck Corporal Edwards is going to end up barging in here at the worst possible moment. And that would just be awkward."  
Laughter broke the tension as she'd hoped and the two seamstresses set to work with an efficiency that Lana approved of. It wasn't long until she was clothed again and seated as Rosemary went over her rough notes.  
"I don't suppose you have any suggestions on fabrics, Rosemary?" Lana asked hopefully. She refused to consider previous suggestions because they'd been even more frightful. Like the tissue thin whatever that was pure white and meant to be layered over something else. Or many layers of itself. Either way, it was awful, and considering the way life tended to go for her on momentous occasions, potentially disastrous. So she truly hoped that the miracle worker who came up with a dress she actually liked could come up with another.  
The older woman smiled, "Actually, I did have something in mind. If you'll forgive me for being so bold, but when I was asked about making this appointment I immediately thought these might look good with your coloring. Tansy, would you..."  
She trailed off as the young woman pulled out a wrapped bundle and with great ceremony, despite her eyes dancing with laughter, settled it down before Lana. Then gently opened the bundle revealing samples of shimmering cloth. All four women leaned together to examine them, soft murmurs of appreciation. Hoping that she wouldn't damage the delicate seeming fabric, Lana picked one of the samples to get a closer look and gasped in delight.  
At first it seemed to be silver, then when the light hit it, shimmered with brilliant white, silver and hints of pale blue. Her hands trembled slightly as she put it down, then picked up the next, a medium blue washed with dark silver tones, then the final one a darker version of the solid blue with none of the silvering.  
"It is as if they were made for you", Leliana murmured quietly.  
Lana nodded, still speechless at the amazing combination of dress and cloth. She drew a deep breath and let it out in a quiet sigh, now for the interesting part. Agreeing to the price.  
Only it wasn't the exorbitant amount she'd braced for, if anything Rosemary seemed reluctant to charge what she should. Lana fixed the woman with a stern look, "I'm well aware of how much a dress such as this will cost, particularly with the materials involved."  
She softened her expression at the mute distress in Rosemary's eyes, "Truly, this is going to be a great deal of work, even if I try not to be too demanding. But there is quite a bit of fine details involved with the embroidery and trimming. I remember all too well what my sister-by-marriage went through, and she while was marrying a Teyrn's heir it wasn't anything near the nightmare a royal wedding is to organize."  
More gentle laughter at her exaggerated grimace and the distress faded from Rosemary's face. "It just didn't seem right, my lady. The amount of business I'll get from making your dress..."  
"Will be well deserved, my poor friends here could probably tell some stories." Lana grinned, "Though I'm sure some of the others that came here had a few things to say."  
Tansy snickered quietly as Rosemary flushed at the memory of some of those comments. Harpy was probably the most polite word used about the future queen, "I will admit, my lady, you weren't exactly what I was expected."  
The grin turned wicked, if still charming as the sapphire eyes sparkled with mischief, "Oh, I can imagine what they were saying. I'm afraid I didn't react very well to some of their suggestions."  
Silence fell as Lana's companions cast sideways looks at the young woman, who, while no longer grinning, still had that glint of wicked amusement in her bright blue eyes. Deciding that the better part of valor was in not asking, Rosemary turned to the final details needed to get started on her work. The longest part of that aspect was wrangling over the contract since Rosemary was still flustered over the amount that was being insisted on as payment.  
Finally, Lana ended up calling on Baldwin, the chamberlain who had been serving the Theirins since the start of Maric's reign, for his advice. Since this wasn't the first royal wedding he made arrangements for, she thought he'd be aware of the going rates for things needed for said event. At least for major things, and considering the importance of the dress, she figured that would be part of the information on hand.  
Or rather, everyone else was making the dress to be something important. The horrified reactions she'd gotten when she suggested that she look through the old dresses had gotten the point across to her.  
The slight man, dressed in subtle finery, what little of his remaining hair was greying, listened to the dilemma gravely, though his warm, brown eyes had a suspicious sparkle. When given Rosemary's asking price for the dress, he couldn't help asking in horror, "You want how little?"  
At that point, the seamstress gave in and signed the contract for the amount Lana insisted on.  
Once the stunned dressmaker had gathered her things, including her copy of the contract, and left with equally stunned assistant in tow, Alfstanna studied Lana thoughtfully. At the questioning look she was given in return, the Bann carefully said, "Most people would have just taken her initial price."  
"I'm not like most people. It was grossly unfair to take such advantage of someone in her position."  
Not wanting to get involved in a potentially dangerous conversation, Rowena excused herself saying that she needed to attend to some personal business of her own in the city proper. Though considering that the young woman had been making arrangements to have people go to her estate to make repairs, it was quite likely the truth.  
Leliana didn't say anything, remaining unobtrusively to the side. Alfstanna smiled a little, "Oh, no need to be defensive, it was more an observation than anything else. It'll be interesting to see how the nobility reacts to how you and the King in the future."  
"You know, you can call Alistair by name in private. I seem to remember him telling you so a few times."  
Alfstanna grinned a little at Lana's verbal riposte then let out a soft huff as she grew serious, "The reason why I said that, is there maybe a... situation in the future."  
"What kind of situation?" She asked warily.  
The Bann shifted uncomfortably in her chair, "One best discussed in private."  
"I trust Leliana, she's proven herself to me more than once", Marlana said coolly.  
"I'm not saying that she isn't, but it does involve the Chantry."  
Leliana smoothly got to her feet and gave them both a sunny smile as she patted Lana's shoulder, "I understand, my lady. There is no need to bridle so on my behalf, Lana. I will see you later."  
To give herself a little time to think, Marlana refreshed their tea. She had a feeling that the Bann was about to tell her what had been troubling the other woman, "Does it have to do with your brother? I thought he was recovering from his ordeal?"  
Alfstanna took one of the few remaining cookies from the plate and nibbled on it, not hiding her troubled expression. "He is and he isn't. Some of the things he's been saying, they're quite troubling."  
Lana rubbed her forehead, "From what I understand, lyrium withdrawal is extremely difficult on a templar. That he was starting to become a little coherent after a year without the proper treatment was apparently remarkable."  
"Blessed Andraste!" Alfstanna exclaimed as she just barely kept from dropping the tea she was about sip. She continued a bit more calmly, though still clearly upset, "It's true then? Templars are given lyrium? Isn't that poisonous to non-mages?"  
"Well, it's poisonous over the long term, after awhile their minds start to, er, well, go." Lana hated this part, she'd never had to explain it, having promised Alistair that she would never reveal this dirty secret of the Chantry. He hated it as well, but had promised not to reveal it when he was conscripted into the Wardens. Unfortunately due to the situation at the Tower, he'd ended up telling her afterward since some of the templars that had attacked them were suffering lyrium withdrawal. Not possession by demon or blood mage.  
A look of utter horror filled Alfstanna's eyes, "Then Alistair..."  
"Won't go mad, at least not from lyrium", Lana said, "He was never given the wretched stuff."  
"Yet, he clearly has templar abilities."  
The anger that she had for the Chantry reawakened and caused her to get up and start pacing. All that wonderful space for the needed measuring came in useful to let her work off the restless energy. Her face a mask of frozen fury, she said tightly, "Because they don't need lyrium to have their abilities. The Chantry uses the lyrium as a leash on the templars. And Alistair avoided getting caught in that trap because Duncan conscripted him before he took his final vows."  
Silence fell as Alfstanna dropped her head into her hands. Trying not to snarl, Lana said, "I do not intend to let such evil continue here in Ferelden at least, but the Chantry is a very powerful institution so I need to go carefully. I don't need an Exalted March called on us while we're still recovering from the Blight."  
Finally the dark-haired noblewoman looked up, her face full of sick revulsion and anger. "And this is why you never see a retired templar."  
"Yes." The single word fell like a stone.  
Alfstanna scrubbed at her face, "And I thought you were exaggerating about what they did to the mages in the Circle..."  
"I wish I were, we'd never have seen those horrors. I'm no mage, but the place was full of despair and not just from what that madman unleashed."  
"Yet, to allow mages to run about unchecked..."  
Lana finally stopped pacing, "They need training, and the idea of templars is a good one. But... well, that can wait for later. You said that your brother is having problems?"  
Rubbing the back of her head, Alfstanna sighed, "He seems to have rational moments, then at other times, not so much. While you seem to think we were sidetracked, you answered a lot of questions for me."  
She gazed off into space for a few moments before turning back to Lana, "I think my brother maybe trying to cause a revolt amongst the templars."  
A revolt amongst the templars. Just fucking fantastic. That would definitely get an Exalted March called down on Ferelden. She eyed Alfstanna, "I don't suppose you have any suggestions since he's your brother?"  
"I do actually. Even though he still loves me dearly, my brother doesn't really listen to me that much anymore. But you, Marlana, he just might listen to."  
"Excuse me?" Lana didn't hide her bafflement. How could she possibly have more sway over a man she met once for a few minutes than his own sister?  
A mirthless smile curved the other woman's lips, "He feels an enormous debt to you for saving him. One that he feels needs to be repaid."  
"I freed everyone I could from that pit that I could. No one owes me anything." She still didn't like people feeling the need to pay her for acts of mercy.  
"Nonetheless, he feels it. I was hoping you might be able to use that to recruit him into the Wardens." At Marlana's incredulous expression, she hastily added, "I'm assured he's physically fit, might be a little rusty with his fighting skills, but that's easily taken care of."  
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Lana thought over the request. On one hand as Warden-Commander she was beholden to rebuild the Order in Ferelden. On the other, she didn't really want to risk the life of a person she saved from a horrible death with one that was equally as bad, if not worse. "Is he back on lyrium? If so, I'm not going to recruit him, I've been told how much a templar needs and that's a financial burden I'm not putting on the Order."  
"No, that's part of the problem. When they tried to give it to him, it made him violently ill. Yet for some odd reason it still cleared his mind from the lingering effects of the withdrawal."  
Lana had her suspicions about what really cleared the templar's mind, but she wasn't about to start another witch hunt at the Tower. Not without proof. Proof of what she suspected and proof that the... person might be a maleficar. Then again, having seen some odd things while on the road, she wasn't about to discount the fact that he very well may have needed that dose to clear his mind. All she said was, "Well, that's one thing at least."  
She hesitated, she didn't want to tell Warden secrets, but at the same time wanted to warn a person who was slowly becoming a friend. "You know that life as a Warden is brutal and often short? Fighting darkspawn is an ugly business."  
"Not to mention that the Joining is potentially fatal?" Alfstanna asked quietly.  
Thank you for opening your big mouth, Anora, Lana thought sourly. The former Queen had leapt at Riordan's suggestion to make Loghain a Warden. She had mentioned the chance he could die from the Joining and allowing the Wardens the chance at revenge that way. Lana figured with her luck he'd survive and she'd be stuck with him as a Warden. The thought still turned her stomach. Apparently Alfstanna had been close enough to hear that little comment after all.  
She sighed, "Yes, there is that as well."  
"My brother and I are both trained as warriors, as such we're used to such risks. Even if he could possibly die, it would still be a chance at a new life."  
That the Bann's words echoed Anora's sentiments unsettled Lana. But she would worry on that later, "I don't want to recruit him just because he thinks he owes a debt. I'm not exaggerating when I say that life isn't easy as a Grey Warden."  
"Right now you need every Warden you can get with the Thaw. After that...I'm sure you'll find ways to keep your Order useful. Being helpful to the people in some way will appeal to my brother."  
Lana wondered if this was what Alfstanna had in mind when she started to worm her way into the future queen's good graces. If so, it wasn't as bad as other intentions. But she'd still keep a wary eye out for now.  
Lana silently blew out her breath, "All right, you can let your brother know the offer of recruitment is open. But he has to do this voluntarily. I'm not going to conscript him."  
Alfstanna smiled, eyes suddenly bright unshed tears, "Thank you, Marlana. This means more to me than you might realize."  
Privately, Lana acknowledged that she would never understand why people would want to be a Warden. But she supposed it was better than many alternatives. Including being a lyrium addicted slave of the Chantry. "Was there anything else you needed?"  
"No, thank you again", the Bann got to her feet, impulsively gave Lana a fast, hard hug before going on her way. Presumably to somehow notify her brother of the offer.  
In bemused silence, Lana finished off the last of her now cold tea and the rest of the cookies. Finally she shook herself, mind and heart too full of conflicting emotions, and left to go to her study to get to her duties. Both as queen, even though she wasn't officially such, there were things that needed to be done, and Warden-Commander.  
Staring at the documents and reports piled on the desk, she hoped they were routine. She wasn't sure if she could handle any further potential political bombs lurking amidst the parchment and paper.  
Explaining to Alistair about the possibility of an Exalted March was going to be bad enough as it was.


	45. Chasing Rumors

Shang! Clang!  
The sounds of blades meeting and parting filled the courtyard as a large man and a small woman danced what would normally be an exercise in death. But something about their attitudes changed it to a thing of deadly beauty. The man cheerfully called out, "Ha! Almost got you that time!"  
"Uh huh", came an amused female voice, "Since when is a mile close?"  
"Are you trying to imply something?"  
"Only that you don't know what close is." Sweet, silvery laughter took the sting out of the words. A bright grin lit up his eyes, turning them to golden fire as they continued their dance of blades.  
Clang! Whack!  
"Hey! That stung!" He mock pouted as she did a bit of pretty footwork to spin around behind him to lightly smack him across the rump with the flat of one blade. She smirked up at him, "It was meant to, Alistair. Now that was close."  
Laughing breathlessly Alistair signaled a halt to their sparring, something Lana readily agreed to. Panting, the two sheathed their blunted practice swords and began to slowly walk back and forth to cool off, she quietly asked, "Feeling better?"  
"A little, I'm still not looking forward to the audience with Anora this afternoon."  
She reached out and patted one chainmail clad arm. Seeing him in light chain instead of heavy plate was disconcerting, but he'd wanted to try practicing her dual-wield style as a challenge and to work on his agility. He wasn't doing too badly, she thought, just needed time to adapt to the need to be more mobile than he was used to. She also had a feeling it was strange for him to be using those movements instead of just defending against them.  
Unknowingly echoing her thoughts, the tall, lean man in dark leathers next to Edwards grunted from where they stood on the sidelines, "Not bad."  
Edwards nodded, "Yeah, specially since he started working on that style within the last few days. Typically sword'n'board and wears heavy plate. When he's in his normal kit, he can fight her to a draw."  
A grunt of suspicion, "Sure about that?"  
"Lad, you need to remember that he's been sparring with her while they've been on the road since Ostagar. And since he is a decent warrior, he probably learned quite a bit just from that."  
Surprised at the unexpected comment, both men turned to where Kendrick lounged against the wall a few paces away where he seemingly idly cleaned his nails with a dagger. The Warden gave them a vulpine grin, just beyond him stood Delindro with the expression of a man who wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be there.  
"And even though you're in a safe place, you shouldn't let your guard down here", he added with a deceptive nonchalance.  
Delindro stirred and said warningly, "Kendrick..."  
"No, Warden, your brother is quite right", Edwards said. "We should be paying better attention."  
Tammrel remained silent, but he did nod slightly in agreement. Still feeling a little uneasy, Edwards cautiously said, "You normally don't come down here this time of day."  
"No", Kendrick agreed, "But we're here to bolster the ranks for when the Commander heads out."  
Despite his resolve to not listen to conversations that didn't pertain to him, Edwards still remembered the argument between the Lady and the King about setting the older Warden on Alistair as a guard. So Edwards couldn't hide his surprise at the comment. Not that he was surprised that someone recruited Delindro, who was an eminently capable archer, into acting as a guard, but that Kendrick was swayed from the King's side against his Commander's orders.  
In the silence as Edwards considered how to ask what was on his mind without offending the Wardens, Tam took care of the situation for him with a muttered, "The girl's scary."  
Knowing that his fellow guard was a man of few, but very blunt, words, Edwards didn't get offended at Tammrel's manner as he made his observation, the way he would have if the man had been anyone else. And well, it wasn't like he hadn't thought of her as scary himself. She was. Though he didn't think of her as a girl. Females that he thought of as girls weren't scary like the way his future queen was.  
He honestly wondered if things got down to a fight if he wouldn't hinder her instead of protecting her the way the King intended.  
But he was a little worried about the reactions of the Wardens to Tammrel's blunt comment.  
The Antivan nodded his vigorous agreement, though he didn't say anything. The sharp eyes of the older Warden studied the guards for a moment, "That she is, lad. That she is. But, she's still only human. And the Commander's got a lot of enemies."  
Tammrel made a non-committal sound. Edwards sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I can imagine."  
Kendrick laughed, "I have to admit, Corporal, you're tougher than you look to keep up with the Commander on a daily basis."  
Embarrassed, Edwards shrugged slightly as the royals disappeared into the training salle to change out of their practice equipment and into their regular clothing. The two Wardens drifted away to bide the time outside. Edwards heaved a silent sigh of relief that they didn't get offended. There were very good reasons Wardens had the reputation that they did.  
The lanky guard just said in disgust, "Escort Duty."  
"You said it yourself, she's scary. So she's not some fluff brained chit like we've had to deal with in the past, Tam. Or do you object to going into the Alienage?"  
The lanky man frowned, "Don't care 'bout elves. Escort duty..."  
"Look, I don't expect anything to happen, at least not with the elves. They like her more than the rest of us 'shems'. But I've heard that Kendells has been acting up more than usual. And while we don't patrol the city, I know you've heard the same rumors."  
Another grunt of agreement. Everyone in the royal guard had been keeping alert for any possible difficulties from the obnoxious Arl since the incident at King Alistair's coronation six weeks before. What they'd been hearing had been disturbing, but since it was all hearsay and no real evidence, they couldn't bring the situation before the King. No one dared mention it to the Lady Cousland, since she would have acted on it and they didn't want to see what she would do.  
Well, most of them didn't want to see what she would do. There were a few who hoped she'd make an example of Vaughan the way she did Howe and Loghain.  
However, there was still concern about how the misogynistic ass might react to the woman who humiliated him in front of their peers if they should cross paths. Which was quite likely given the Lady's destination that morning and the stories of what the Arl had been doing to the people who lived there. Many didn't care since it was the elves, but those who spent time around Marlana found themselves starting to reconsider their attitude.  
It was well known in "polite society" that the Arl was no longer welcome at any gathering held by noble or merchant due to his "unseemly" behavior. And it was even more well known amongst the guards for said "polite society" since they were the ones who had to deal with tossing him out of the events he had acted up at. Even if their respective employers weren't friendly, most of the guards tended to tip one another off about any potential trouble.  
Except for the ones who served Kendells of course. The guards he hired had reputations that were as unsavory as their employer's. If not worse.  
Due to said behavior on the part of Kendells, any marriage contracts that had been tentatively offered had dried up, not because of poor manners. But due to the fact that the nobleman was on a self-destructive course that any noble with even the faintest hint of political savvy didn't want to take any chances on.  
Unfortunately, instead of taking the opportunity to reconsider his actions in light of the censure, subtle or not, from his peers. Vaughan Kendells ramped up the bad behavior, starting to mix his booze with stronger substances. There'd been word that he'd taken to harassing the elven women in the Alienage, but after all the recent ills visited on the Alienage, none of them were willing to talk to the city guard to provide the needed evidence to bring Kendells up on charges.  
"Yeah. That why she's going there?"  
"No one has breathed a word about it to her. They don't dare. It'd be pretty messy."  
"Messy can be good." Tammrel was quite for a moment, "I'll do it."  
"Um, Tam, I've been guarding the Lady for some time now, she generally avoids trouble. Well, except for those Orlesian idiots, but it wasn't messy."  
"Overdue then."  
Covering his face with one hand, Edwards tried not to whimper. He really, really didn't want to see what "messy" was like around Marlana Cousland.  
Unaware of the discussions outside, Alistair and Lana took their time to remove the practice armor, clean up a bit at the basin of water left there for that purpose before pulling on their court clothing, or rather Alistair did. She changed into her black and silver armor then belted her sword and dagger at her waist.  
He watched her preparations with concern, "Expecting trouble? I thought you got along well with Shianni?"  
"We get a long just fine, and it's not the residents of the Alienage that I'm worried about." It was true the two women did get along surprisingly well, despite their greatly different backgrounds. But they had similar mindsets when it came to protecting those they cared about. And this wasn't the first time they were discussing the Alienage, however it was the first time they were meeting outside of the palace.  
"Then who..." He stopped from finishing the quest about who she would be concerned about and thought over who might have issues with her visiting the Alienage. "Kendells?"  
"Yes. I've heard some unsettling rumors. Though it's not rumors that has me going to visit with Elder Valendrian and Shianni today. There's been discrepancies about what's been happening with the funds you set aside to help rebuild Denerim. Since the Alienage seems to be getting the worst of it, I thought I'd start there."  
Alistair scrubbed at his face, "I think I remember you saying something about that, but you've been awfully quiet on that part. I think I would've preferred you talking about that last night than a possible templar rebellion that might cause an Exalted March getting called down on us."  
She lightly skimmed her hand along his arm, "I don't have any solid proof, love. You know I won't act on mere speculation without it."  
He lightly caught her hand in his and lightly ran his calloused thumb along her knuckles as she gripped his hand in turn, "I know, just... be careful please?"  
"I promise, it won't be like what happened when I went after Howe. If it looks bad, I'll leave first."  
The stare he gave her said volumes. She sighed, "Well, I'll try to at least."  
With a sigh he carefully hugged her, keeping in mind what happened the last time his clothing had gotten hooked on her armor when he just hugged her. It had been funny in a way, but he didn't want to ruin anything else. While he wasn't a clothes horse, he'd often gone without for so long, he was always careful of the things he did have. He wasn't about to let being King change that attitude. Especially with regards to a certain someone. "Please, do try the best that you can. I've almost lost you more times than I care to think about."  
Lana buried her face against his chest as she slid her arms around his waist, "You have my word on it."  
Since in her case "her word is her bond" really did mean something, he buried his face in her hair without further comment about his concerns, not when he was in the position to see to it that there were people he could rely on to protect her. Particularly Edwards, since Lana described the guard as an "overprotective bully" in regards to how he approached his duty to guarding her. An attitude he heartily approved of.  
And that was why he was setting Kendrick and Delindro on her. Even if she didn't know it yet. Or rather, she probably already figured it out since if he could feel the two Wardens outside, she most certainly could.  
They finally reluctantly parted. While they were able to see one another regularly throughout the day, and had a month and a half to start adjusting to the fact they weren't constantly on the go, it'd still been only a month and a half after a nightmare that lasted over a year. She gently skimmed her fingers along his cheek, "Try to have a good morning at least. I'll see you this afternoon. To at least provide moral support."  
He grinned, turned his head so that he could give her fingers a quick kiss before she pulled her hand back, "Or to scare the nobles?"  
A mischievous glint lit her eyes, "I haven't scared any off in the last couple of weeks."  
"That, my dear, is entirely because there haven't been any who wanted a public audience. And the ones who wanted to speak with me privately had obviously prepared themselves for dealing with you."  
The only response he got was a grin then a kiss, which he happily returned as they began to leave the salle after stowing their gear. When greeted by the two Wardens at the door, Alistair used the opportunity given to him by her stunned silence to beat a hasty retreat. He knew he might pay for it later, but he also knew he could talk her around. Besides, the making up part always outweighed all the yelling.  
Eying the two men thoughtfully, she pointedly asked, "So who is watching over Alistair if you're here, Kendrick?"  
"There's a couple of very competent men that were picked out by Edwards. Since the lad has no plans on leaving the palace today, I didn't object when he asked me to be a part of your escort."  
"I'm just going to the Alienage. It's not like I'm trying to break anyone out of a dungeon", she grumbled.  
It was their turn to eye her, cautiously Delindro said, "There's been...rumors about problems there, Commander."  
"There's always rumors, and I thought I told both of you to call me by name?"  
Their expressions went blank. She sighed, "Fine. I get it. I take it that the person lurking by Edwards in the distance is also joining our happy little crew?"  
Delindro shrugged as Kendrick shook his head, "Not sure. I think Edwards was in the process of asking him when we got here."  
She nodded thoughtfully then tried to peer over the men's shoulders when movement caught her attention. The two obligingly stepped back to either side as Edwards approached and while she had seen the man in passing when he was on guard duty, she wasn't that familiar with the man. Taking the moment to study him, she thought he was something of a contrast to Edwards, in that his hair was shoulder length and somewhat shaggy yet completely clean shaven. Her personal guard kept his hair short, yet couldn't seem to get rid of the constant shadow on his jaw.  
And of course the Corporal would find yet another person to tower over her.  
Said guard paused before her, bowed, which caused her eyebrow to go up since he usually saluted if he felt he needed to be formal and politely said, "My lady, I would like to introduce Guard Tammrel to you."  
By that point, the two Wardens and Tammrel were staring at Edwards as well. Lana peered up at the guard, "Are you feeling all right?"  
"Just fine, my lady."  
"Well, you're not acting like yourself..." She trailed off and just shook her head when she saw the speculative look in the newcomer's eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Tammrel. I'm guessing you're another lucky soul that's getting dragged into this?"  
Her tone held annoyance at the situation, but didn't argue. She'd already learned how futile that was. Edwards had quickly figured out he could enlist Alistair for backup when she was being difficult about any escorts she got saddled with. Evidently deciding to not address the situation, Tammrel just saluted with fist over heart, "My lady."  
Shaking her head in annoyance, silver braid swishing like the tail of a cat, she grumbled, "Fine, fine. Let's collect the rest of the lot you're dragging along and get going. I just hope you aren't bringing in too many bodies, the elves are upset enough as it is. I don't want to set them off even more."  
As she began speaking, Oogie heaved himself up from where he'd been dozing, ambled over to his human and leaned against her. Giving the hound a rub behind the ears, the annoyance was replaced by a fond smile. Not for the first time, Edwards was grateful that the mabari could get Marlana to calm down. But only if the dog didn't perceive some sort of threat. Though having a war hound as big as Oogie growling at a person often settled matters in their own way.  
No one wanted to see how big of a chunk the dog could take out of someone.  
"Actually, my lady, you're looking at your escort." He smiled a little at her surprise, "As you said, the elves have been upset about something, having a large escort would just make things worse. It's why I asked for Wardens Kendrick and Delindro to accompany us today."  
Another smile, this one full of respect, lit her features, "Thank you, Corporal. And I apologize for my attitude."  
Beside him, Tammrel stiffened slightly in shock, but Edwards simply smiled back, "No need to apologize, my lady. I understand that you're feeling stifled."  
Once everyone was readied and started to leave the palace, Lana decided she was glad to be wearing her armor after all. It was already getting hot and humid, even for a summer morning, but the armor had enchantments worked into it to keep its wearer comfortable regardless of temperature.  
She had a feeling she was going to need all the comfort she could get.  
-oOo-  
The elves were angry.  
At least, that was the first impression that Edwards got when they first entered the Alienage. Though, oddly enough, they didn't lookangry. They got some initial hostile looks, but that quickly changed when they saw the small, slim woman in the midst of the guards. He didn't understand why she insisted on walking initially. But by the group walking in, the elves could see who was actually entering. Word clearly went ahead of them since the hostile looks vanished fairly quickly and cautious greetings were going out.  
He wondered if there wasn't a problem with lingering Taint from the vanquished darkspawn with the way the two male Wardens kept looking around. But it wasn't that since no one had said anything. And he knew Marlana would've commented if there had been a problem with darkspawn or something Tainted.  
It wasn't until she warmly returned a greeting from a little girl that he realized the anger was coming from his charge.  
The King had given him the warning signs, both of her surface temper and the kind of deep seated rage that scared everyone. Judging from the way her mouth was compressed and the iciness in her eyes when she surveying the Alienage, it was the kind of killing rage that scared even the man who loved her. What truly disturbed him was the fact she returned the greeting from the passing elves with no signs of that anger.  
The kind willpower to hide such an intense emotion was staggering.  
He also couldn't help but pity the two Wardens that were on escort duty. If he could pick up that anger, what were they getting? He'd gotten confirmation over time that Wardens could sense each other as well as darkspawn, not just a quirk particular to the Lady he guarded. He wasn't sure just what they could pick up from each other, but he had a feeling that they were getting enough to make them uneasy.  
Edwards was honestly confused about her reaction, but didn't dare ask. He wondered if there was something he was missing, since this was the best condition he'd ever seen the Alienage in. Sure, they were still in the beginning stages of rebuilding, but the people out on the streets were clearly going along purposefully, many of them bearing building supplies of some sort. Not to mention that there were teams of people bustling about buildings, tearing down the worst while using what was salvageable to repair what remained standing.  
Yet, he had to be honest with himself. Even the worst human slum was in better repair. He knew that from escorting Marlana to other meetings she had in the city.  
At her quiet request they stopped at a local bakery on the way. Only Edwards went in with her since Marlana didn't want to upset whomever was in the store with a large group of armed humans. Oogie opted to remain outside as well and flopped down on Kendrick's feet, much to everyone's amusement. The hound panted happily at the small smile on his human's face.  
When she disappeared inside the store, Kendrick muttered, "All right, mutt, show time is over."  
Oogie gave him a mock mournful look. When that didn't work, he then got up with a suspicious snickering sound before flopping back down next to the man. Delindro didn't bother to hide his chuckle, long since charmed by the playful hound, while Tammrel eyed the three warily.  
Inside was clean and neat, though clearly had seen far better days. While there wasn't a great deal of variety, there was plenty of quantity. And seemed to have been made with quality in mind. When the young woman at the counter looked up and saw her newest customer, she paled. She stammered, "Oh, um, my lady, how can I help you?"  
Lana smiled at her gently, shoving away the anger she still held for the condition of the Alienage, not wanting the other woman to think it was directed at her. "Yes, there's a few things I'd like to get."  
She was still smiling when she left the bakery with an amused Edwards in tow. The young woman, Nessa, had been flustered at first at dealing with Lana, but had soon settled down. Until it came time for Lana to pay. Much like Rosemary before her, Nessa had been extremely reluctant to take full payment for her wares. Rather than argue, the young noblewoman just put the money to cover her purchase on the counter before leaving.  
Once outside, she distributed small paper wrapped bundles to her guards. She'd been delighted that one of the baked goods that Nessa had available were small, bite sized cookies. They'd been intended for children, but worked for people standing on guard duty just as well since they could be kept in a pouch and easily eaten while on the go. She grinned at Tammrel's stunned expression as she handed out the packets, and had grinned even more broadly at the delight in Delindro's and Kendrick's faces.  
Feeling like being nothing but a walking stomach some days, Lana wasn't about to get something to eat for herself, well not just herself but those she was meeting with, but it still felt like it was for herself. So out of basic courtesy she got something for the men, and dog, who were guarding her that day. Besides, she remembered having food packed for her guards when she went on her short trips with Gwen, so this was nothing new to her.  
It never occurred to her that not many, noble or not, would think to take care of their guards in such a way.  
When they arrived at the Elder's house, Edwards and Tammrel positioned themselves near the door while the two Wardens went out further to find places to act as lookouts. Before she went into the house, she smiled at Oogie, "Yes, you can play with the children as long as you remember that you can't bring any home as a pet."  
The mabari did a full body wiggle in delight. But when he reared to lick his human, he did so with a delicacy that surprised the gathering onlookers and delighted the gathered children. Then he bounded off to play as Marlana entered the house as the door opened at her knock. Though Edwards entered the place long enough to assure himself there was no danger to the Lady he was guarding before resuming his station outside.  
Much like the bakery, the home of Valendrian, Elder of the Alienage, had seen better days. However the pride he had in it was obvious from the way it had been maintained as best as he could within his means. At his gesture she sat down after removing her weapons belt and hanging it on the back of the chair. Shianni was already seated and warily eyed the box as Lana carefully placed it on the battered table.  
"Really, m'lady, you didn't have to do that..."  
"First, you can still call me Marlana. At least in private." She made a face that caused Shianni to smile a little, despite herself, "In public we still have to be formal. And second, it's only polite to bring a host gift."  
There was a suspicious twinkle in Valendrian's eyes as he said as he assembled a tray of mismatched mugs and a chipped teapot, "Never turn down a gift of food from a Warden, Shianni."  
The red-headed woman frowned at the Elder and was waved to keep sitting when she got up to help him with the tray. He continued blithely on, "Duncan never did say what it was, but apparently there's something about being a Warden that increases the appetite."  
Lana grimaced as she pulled her gauntlets off and laid them to the side, "That's a mild way of putting it."  
Valendrian chuckled, "And here I thought Duncan was just trying to excuse the fact that fighters tend to eat more in general."  
"Trust me, I wish it was just that ", the young woman replied dryly causing his grin to broaden.  
There was genuine delight when he saw where the box came from, "You stopped at Nessa's bakery? How wonderful."  
This time there was a twinkle in Marlana's bright blue eyes, "It took a little persuasion, but I managed to get some suggestions for what to bring."  
In thoughtful silence, Shianni opened the box to begin serving, her eyes holding mixed emotions. The good humor in Lana's expression faded and she said quietly, "I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries. I prefer to support the local merchants when and where I can..."  
The other woman huffed out her breath, "No, it's nothing like that... It's just..." She shook her head at a loss for words. Or at least polite ones.  
Remembering past conversations Lana cast a sideways glance at the Elder who seemed disinclined to say anything, instead he poured out tea into the mugs that were set out. Though his lips were twitching a little suspiciously. So she went for the direct route which usually worked the best when dealing with the somewhat prickly woman, "You're not used to shems treating the elvhen with respect."  
Both elves winced at the blunt words, though her tone was matter of fact and held no rancor. Shianni shifted uncomfortably, "Well, no. I know you're not like them, but still..."  
Lana nodded easily, accepting a mug of tea and a cookie, "It's hard to break old habits, old ways of thinking."  
She broke the cookie in half and absently dunked it into the tea, "Sadly, most humans are still blinded by their bigotry. I'd always heard that my family treated their vassals differently from the other nobles, I didn't realize just how different until my first visit to Denerim. Seeing the Alienage walled and gated in such a way..."  
Marlana trailed off, unwilling to say that it had horrified her to see people penned up in such a manner. Sure the Alienage in Highever had walls and gates, but it was the choice of the residents so that they could have an area distinct to them. Though she didn't say anything, the unspoken horror could be seen in her eyes. Instead she delicately nibbled on the cookie in her hand.  
Whatever she'd seen in those sapphire eyes, Shianni's attitude abruptly relaxed and she picked up a cookie of her own, "So you wanted to see us about the repairs of the Alienage?"  
As Shianni took a bite, Lana pulled out a sheaf of parchment from the pouch she left at her side. "Yes, there's been some issues brought to my attention in other districts. While I have other people looking into them, I wanted to look into matters here on my own."  
Frowning slightly, Valendrian said with concern in his voice, "I assure you, Marlana, that we've kept meticulous records."  
"Oh, I didn't mean that at all." She paused for a moment to take another neat bite of her cookie and to buy herself a little time to think over what she was going to say, "Let's just say I feel like I have a vested interest in this area."  
It didn't need to be said that she'd spilled a great deal of blood to protect the people of this area.  
She wiped her hands, "Besides, I have the kind of authority to stop a certain troublemaker in his tracks."  
Seeing the worried glances the two exchanged made her eyes narrow, "What's he done?"  
Valendrian sat his mug down carefully and said quietly, "There's only so much one person can do. That not just you, but King Alistair as well, have taken such an interest in my people..."  
He shook his head and placed a hand over his heart, "I have no words for what it means."  
As the Elder spoke, Marlana kept one eye on Shianni who had paled and fallen silent at the mere mention of Vaughan Kendells. Quietly and more towards Shianni, she said, "I may be one person, but I do have some rather impressive backup to help with difficulties."  
He smiled gently, "Thank you. Now you said you wanted to go over some possible discrepancies?"  
Understanding that she may have pushed too much, Marlana nodded and spread out the documents she'd brought, "Indeed. Let's start with the supplies."  
It took longer, far longer, than she'd anticipated to go through the lists of material and coin that had been set aside from what the crown had given towards rebuilding Denerim. Since they found they had to go through each list line by line, the Elder ended up calling in the two clerks that served the district to help with the sorting as well as taking copious notes. Long enough that despite the objections of those she was working with, Lana sent some of the more trustworthy children to get them lunch once the cookies were exhausted.  
Long enough to send one of said youngsters to the palace with the message that she was going to be longer than expected.  
Once they were done, Marlana sat back in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose in the effort to distract herself from the headache that started throbbing in her temples and behind her eyes. Some skimming off the top had been expected. But not what appeared to be wholesale theft. She didn't think it was the elves not because she blindly trusted them, but their signed and sealed documentation verified the deliveries they had noted. Yet... Yet she wasn't positive on that score, which meant calling for an audit on all stages of transport.  
Maker, she thought, whatasoddingmess.  
Outside of the Elder's house, Tammrel frowned at a cookie. When Marlana had gotten food for her meeting, she'd made sure her escort had been taken care of as well, which included more cookies since they'd gone over well with everyone. Ever since the second round of baked goods, Tammrel had been acting odd. Edwards did his best not to roll his eyes, but he couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice, "Andraste's tits, man, what did that cookie ever do to you?"  
Tammrel gave him a sideways glance as he mumbled, "Nothing", before eating said confection.  
"It's not nothing if you keep glowering like that."  
As he automatically scanned the area for trouble, Tammrel sighed, "Nothing wrong. Just...strange. What does she want?"  
It took Edwards a moment to figure out what in the Abyss his fellow guard was talking about. "Umm. I told you that the Lady is a good one. If she's out and about for a long period of time, she makes sure the escort is fed and watered."  
Eating another cookie, Tammrel considered the matter. Since the man wasn't glowering anymore, Edwards was content to let him think in silence as he started to fish out his own cookies. Before he could, Kendrick seemingly materialized before them looking grim, which instantly had Edwards on alert. "What's wrong?"  
"Kendells is in the Alienage. And it sounds like he's on a tear. Some of the locals are trying to -"  
With a curse, Edwards stormed through the door.


	46. Not Terribly Bright

"Kendells is in the Alienage. And it sounds like he's on a tear. Some of the locals are trying to -"  
Cursing, Edwards stormed through the door, not giving Kendrick a chance to finish what he was saying. Seeing the frustration and tiredness in the eyes of his Lady made his gut clench at the thought of adding another worry, but her safety was more important at that moment. He knew she could take care of herself, however his job was to make sure she was away from the trouble first.  
"What's wrong, Corporal?" Even as she asked that, Marlana was getting to her feet, hastily pulling her gloves on then grabbing her weapons belt.  
"Arl Kendells, my lady."  
He wasn't sure which was worse. The terrible light of battle in those sapphire eyes or the terror in Shianni's. Then Marlana shook her head and the combativeness drained out of her stance. With her belt back in place around her waist, she briskly picked up her documents and stuffed them into their pouch. She smiled wryly at the surprise that he didn't hide quickly enough, "I made a promise to Alistair to avoid trouble. I intend to try to keep that promise."  
She turned to the Elder, "My apologies, Elder, but - "  
Valendrian waved her off, "I think it would be best for everyone that the 'good' Arl not find you here."  
The door burst open, banging against the wall as it was slammed open. A male figure swaggered into the house and Vaughan Kendells's deep voice rolled through the room, "Well, well, what have we here? Shianni, how kind of you to lure the King's whore here for me."  
One slashing look at the petrified elven woman told Marlana all she needed to know, even as she gestured for Edwards to hold. That look of fear wasn't directed at her, and fury rose in the future Queen at the way all color drained from the normally feisty woman's face as she started to shake. Looking over the obnoxious nobleman's shoulder, she could see Tammrel and Kendrick surrounded by guards, both men looking furious. At first she wondered how they could have been captured without a high body count, then she saw the man in mage robes behind them.  
A familiar scarred face topped the robes, her eyes narrowed dangerously when she saw who it was. She remembered him from the fight with Howe in the dungeons of the estate that belonged to the Arl of Denerim. The beads of sweat that suddenly formed on his forehead meant he realized just how serious the situation was as he saw her looking at him. That one of Howe's pet mages was still alive was a surprise to her and a part of her wondered how he survived Oghren and Zev. But that would soon be rectified, no matter how things went with the idiot nobleman.  
While there might be certain blood mages she'd be willing to give a second chance, this man was most definitely not one of them.  
There was no sign of Delindro or Oogie in the small crowd, though she could feel their presences nearby. Good, they were waiting before acting. Or so she hoped.  
Turning those frozen blue eyes on Kendells, Marlana said in a terribly pleasant voice as she ignored his childish insults., "Such manners, Vaughan. I thought even you would have the courtesy to knock before barging into someone's home."  
Vaughan arrogantly strode over to where the silver-haired young woman stood with her arms crossed over her chest, clearly keeping her hands away from her weapons. For the moment. With her speed, it didn't matter if her hands were near her blades or not. He sneered, "Do you honestly think vermin care if you knock on the door before entering their rat hole?"  
"They aren't vermin." She wondered why she bothered saying anything since now that he was up close she could smell the alcohol on his breath. The way his eyes were glazed and his pupils were pinpricks, he'd clearly mixed the booze with some other drug. Possibly more than one. The day was just getting better and better. She really hoped this wasn't going to keep her from being at Alistair's side for Anora's fealty ceremony. If it did, she was going to skin the man alive.  
Though if all the shortages that were discovered that morning were due to Kendells in anyway, even if she did make it to the ceremony, she might just skin him alive anyway.  
"Says the whore", he sneered again. Then leered at her.  
Stifling the urge to roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, she sighed, "What do you want, Vaughan?"  
The leer turned into something uglier, "I was going to have playtime with Shianni and some of her friends, but instead I have the King's plaything here as a gift from the Maker." His expression twisted, "You have a great deal to make up to me for humiliating me like you did, bitch."  
Unable to keep silent at the continued insults, Edwards snarled, "Have a care, my lord."  
"If you don't keep your dog under control, whore, I'll have to teach it a lesson the way I'm going to teach yours."  
Those around Marlana, save Vaughan who was oblivious to the danger he was in, fell silent. Then edged away from her as subtly as possible, as her face and body language went oddly expressionless. When she spoke, her tone was just as disturbingly empty, "This is your last warning, Vaughan Kendells. If you leave now, I won't make you regret this intrusion."  
Kendells backhanded her instead of saying anything. It stung, and there was some force in the blow, but she was made of far sturdier stuff than her slight frame implied. Her head snapped to the side, but didn't she didn't fall down from the blow the way he seemed to expect the way he goggled when she remained on her feet. With her cheek reddening from the hit, Marlana's lips curved up in a cold and terrible smile.  
"My turn", she said too calmly as she swiftly brought her knee up between his legs.  
There was a very audible crunch as her knee connected with his genitals. There was a faint, breathless, high pitched squeal as he toppled over into a fetal position.  
Correctly taking that as their cue to act, both Tammrel and Kendrick spun to deal with the mage, but the arrowhead that suddenly sprouted between his eyes took care of that little problem for them. As more arrows started to fly out with careful precision, the two men on the ground proceeded to continue their turns to go after the guards to either side. In an arrogance matching their employer's, the sell-swords hadn't disarmed the two men, trusting that the mage could keep them under control.  
While Kendrick was finally able to draw his daggers without worrying about the mage, Tammrel just used his fists since the guards weren't wearing helmets and were lightly armored at best. They were clearly anticipating harassing a few unarmed elves, not dealing with heavily armed and armored royal guards or the very dangerous Wardens.  
At least one of those dangerous men was clearly pissed off as Kendrick attacked with a viciousness that hadn't been displayed before. Instead of going for one of the obvious joints, such as the elbow or even the neck, he shoved both blades below the belt into either side of the protective codpiece the man wore at his groin. The man bonelessly sagged, Kendrick yanked the blades out and shoved them up through the man's soft throat in a welter of blood.  
The tall, lanky man smashed one meaty paw into the face of the guard closest to him whose nose exploded in a welter of blood as he fell to his knees in pain. He continued on to the next two by smashing their heads together. Only then did he draw the massive two handed sword at his back. After seeing what Tammrel did with just his fists, the remaining guards threw down their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. Or it may have also been due to the fact that Kendrick almost literally cut the legs out from under some of their fellows. Either way, they secured those still alive, conscious or not.  
Both tensed at the door to the house reopened, then relaxed when they saw Edwards come out dragging Kendells by the collar of his tunic, a still furious Marlana behind him. A low growl drew the attention of the four humans as Oogie herded an unarmored man. A noble judging by his clothing and almost falling over his own feet in an attempt to get away from the hound that spectacularly failed since not only was the mabari faster, he wasn't inebriated like the noble. Accompanying the dog, and trying hard not to look amused, was Delindro. The swarthy Antivan carried his bow in his hands, though didn't have an arrow nocked. Considering the speed that the arrows had flown with before, no one had any doubts that it wouldn't slow him down.  
From the opposite direction an elven woman who looked to be some sort of relative to Shianni prodded along another nobleman with the biggest kitchen knife that any of the men had ever seen. Tendrils of golden hair escaped from the tail her hair was tied back in and fell into her emerald green eyes. A look of dark glee lit up her face when she saw the whimpering Kendells. "'Bout time that bleedin' bastard got what was comin' to him."  
Shianni gasped, "Kallian! Mind your language around the Lady."  
Now amused, Lana commented dryly, "You've never heard Oghren. Your friend isn't that bad."  
The redhead put her hands on her hips and glared at the other elven woman, using her annoyance to stifle her fear. "Cousin, what do you think you're doing?"  
Kallian said with a saccharine sweetness that was belied by the anger in her eyes as her gaze fixated on the prone Kendells, "Just helpin' to get rid of the trash."  
Sapphire eyes narrowed as Marlana asked in an ominous tone, "What exactly has he been doing here? Though I'm starting to get an idea..."  
"You haven't told her, Shianni? You promised!" Kallian snarled as she kicked her captive behind one knee to bring him down with the others under guard.  
Looking down at the ground, Shianni paled and wrung her hands, in a hoarse whisper said, "It's not exactly something that you just bring up..."  
The rumors combined with the reactions from Shianni and Kallian were adding up to something truly ugly in Marlana's mind. As gently as she could, she asked, "How many women are willing to testify?"  
Not following her train of thought, all present just looked blankly at her. She huffed, "I've seen...things in the past that have given me an idea of what he's done. So, he's hurt people here, most likely females of a certain age range. How many are willing to testify against him? That he had a blood mage that worked for Howe in his entourage should be enough, but I like to make sure I have everything covered."  
"Not that we are ungrateful, my lady, but why would you do this for those who aren't your people?" Valendrian asked as he came out into the street. Residents were slowly gathering their faces holding a mixture of fear and cautious hope.  
Marlana tilted her head slightly, trying not to frown as she thought over what he was asking. And trying not to get insulted if he was saying what she thought he was. He delicately cleared his throat, "My lady, most would see elves as the lowest of the low..."  
Her chin went up and a fierce light entered her eyes, "You are my people. You are vassals to my love and in a few months I'll be your Queen. As such, I have responsibility to see to your well being. I cannot make an easy life for anyone. I can't undo centuries of bigotry. But I will do my damnedest to make sure everyone has a chance at a good life."  
"It's true", piped up a high pitched female voice and a plain faced elven woman with dusty blond hair made her way through the crowd. "The Couslands have always treated all of their people as well as they could. It's why I tried to start the changes I did."  
At Marlana's baffled look, the elven woman bobbed a curtsy, "I come from Highever, my lady. As you said, life wasn't perfect, but we didn't have to worry about..."  
She trailed off as she paled, and her eyes grew haunted, then continued on, "About...well, a woman didn't have to worry about what her lords were going to do to her."  
Lips compressing into a thin line, Marlana coldly and very ungently toed Kendells in the ribs where he lay prone. Normally she'd never think of literally kicking a man when he was down, but at that moment her fury was incandescent at what he'd done to those under his rule. One of the things Bryce Cousland had always emphasized to his children, was that the care of the people were as important as care for the land. A ruler had as many responsibilities to their people, as their people had to them. That Vaughn Kendells had violated such a basic precept was beyond unacceptable to her.  
However since it was no longer a time of war, she couldn't just do what she wanted to. Well, she could and Alistair would most likely agree, but she didn't want to undermine his still fledgeling authority. Instead, she was going to go through proper channels. Besides, it'd be fun to see what Alistair was going to do the idiot. "If you are willing to tell Alistair what this ass has done, I will make sure he'll pay for all the wrongs he's done."  
Kallian stared at her intently, "You mean you're takin' this to the king?"  
"Yes, I'm going to invoke the King's Justice for this."  
A fierce grin lit up the woman's features, "Then yes, I'll be more than happy to help."  
She cast a sharp look her cousin who seemed torn over what was happening and the fierceness softened a bit. Kallian walked over to Shianni, slid an arm around the other woman's shoulders and spoke in a gentle tone, "This is our chance, Shianni. Our chance for vengeance. And to avenge Nola and the others."  
The red-headed elf shivered in fear, staring down at the ground. Not used to seeing this side of the woman, Marlana drifted over and softly, but very firmly, said "Tell me."  
Pain and fear mixed with fury in the fierce green eyes, "Kendells has always been a problem, but the last few years..." Kallian paused and swallowed, now looking a little haunted, "A little over a year ago there was a double marriage being held. He showed up drunk, Shianni brained him with a bottle when he was harassing some of the ladies before the ceremony."  
Lana nodded in satisfaction and a ghost of the grin she was used to from Shianni flashed back for a brief moment. The grin faded as Shianni said in distress, "I wish I hadn't. He came back really pissed off..."  
Waiting patiently for one of the two to finish, Lana scanned the area. Her escort had slapped on some rough bandaging on the wounded prisoners, not that she really cared about their comfort. Anyone stupid enough to work for Vaughan Kendells got what they deserved. In the distance she could see some of the city guard approaching and mentally nodded in satisfaction at the thought of additional help. Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to where the woman from Highever was talking with a few other women who looked torn over whatever was being said.  
Finally Kallian resumed, "Vaughan came back during the ceremony in a fury. He and his two cronies there, had Shianni, Valora , "she nodded over to the woman talking to the others," and I, along with Nola our other bridesmaid, taken to his estate. They killed Nola when she wouldn't stop screaming. The rest of us... The rest of us they had their way with, and in the morning they dumped us at the entrance to the Alienage with a few coins for our services. Before the slavers, things were blessedly quiet without him around for a few months."  
Vaughan's cronies blanched at the look in the sapphire eyes that were regarding them. Vaughan was still in no shape to notice anything due to the pain he was in. And possibly the substances he ingested. Once she was sure she could speak rationally, Lana said in a very tight voice, "They will pay. Very painfully if I have my way."  
Shianni didn't say anything as Kallian considered her words. Watching the city guard organizing the transport of the prisoners, she continued, "For what it's worth, you have my deepest regrets and apologies. Had I know what Vaughan was doing, I would've dealt with him when I found him in that cell."  
"What? You're not perfect?" Kallian gave a bark of laughter, "My lady just the fact that you're willing to do something..."  
Edwards carefully approached the three women, Alistair's warnings were in the forefront of his mind. He didn't want to accidentally set her off by thinking he was a threat. He thumped his fist over his armored chest, "My lady, the guard are arranging for transportation for you. How many are coming with you?"  
She looked over at Shianni questioningly, Kallian had already made it clear that she was coming. For a moment the woman looked down at the ground, then looked up and nodded. Lana gave her an encouraging smile as she reached out to gently pat Shianni's shoulder. "I'll have two guests then, Corporal."  
"Ah, excuse me, my lady, but if I may be so bold?" Valora piped up behind Lana, who turned around and raised an eyebrow questioningly. The elven woman blushed slightly, "If you don't mind, Delan, Nesiara and I well come also. We've all..."  
As Valora trailed off uncertainly, Lana nodded her understanding. "Of course you're welcome to come. But you're aware you may have to give details in front of others?"  
Delan, a pretty young woman, dark of hair and eye, said tightly, "We do. We want to do whatever we can to help make sure that the bastard gets what he deserves."  
Lana felt another presence nearby and turned to see Kylon, now Captain of the Denerim City Guard, approach the little group. He nodded to her, "My lady. Might I thank you once again for making my job easier?"  
Not expecting that greeting, she blinked at him, "Not that I mind helping, but I wasn't aware that I was doing anything for the guard."  
He grinned, a surprisingly boyish look on his weathered face, "His Majesty, King Alistair just sent us out to retrieve Arl Kendells. I believe his exact words were 'I don't care how you do it, but I want that miserable piece of shit in chains before me by the end of the day.' And here we are, where you've so kindly made that miserable piece of shit rather compliant."  
She blinked again, Alistair normally didn't curse and particularly didn't refer to anyone as a 'miserable piece of shit' unless someone had well and truly pissed him off. "So what did he do to get Alistair that angry?"  
The Captain shook his head, "I don't know, my lady. But I could see he was absolutely furious about something the Arl did. When we went to the Arl's estate first, we were informed that he'd gone to the Alienage. Then I remembered that you were paying a visit here today. Well, let's just say I'm not surprised at your, ah, meeting with the Arl, or that you'd already dealt with the sodding idiot."  
Feeling blindsided, she rubbed the back of her head while thinking things over. It was far too soon for Alistair to learn of Vaughan's attempted assault and threats of worse, so it wouldn't have been that. And quite frankly if Alistair thought she was in danger, despite being King, he'd lead the mission to rescue her. So it wasn't that either. She figured that it must have been some other situation she'd learn about in good time. Making a mental shrug, she turned her attention back to the patiently waiting Captain. "Well, let's just say the idiot went a little too far this morning."  
Quietly, he drew her off to the side, though Edwards and Kendrick hovered nearby while Oogie ambled over to lean against his human. He said softly, "Between you and me, my lady, I'm glad that you're doing something for the people here. I know that particular waste of air has been causing trouble here, but no one is willing to talk to me or my boys."  
"Unfortunately, they've been given ample reason in the past."  
He grimaced, "Too true. Well, I hope this will help show them that things are changing in the guard. Not that I won't run in anyone caught where they shouldn't be, but I'd do that to humans and dwarves also."  
All she could do was nod her agreement, before asking him about the city guards in a normal volume. They chatted for a bit, keeping a wary eye on the situation while waiting for the promised transport to the palace. The gathered residents did the same, though they spoke in quiet murmurs to one another. It also gave time for Shianni to recollect herself and she started to move amongst the crowd at the same time as Valendrian to reassure their people that all was well.  
Two wagons soon arrived, one with shackles bolted on for the prisoners, one for the bodies of those who had died during the ill fated attack on Marlana's escort. For the young noblewoman and her guests, a more comfortably appointed open carriage with saddled horses for her escort.  
There were a few quiet cheers when Vaughan was unceremoniously dumped into the bed of the wagon containing the living prisoners.  
Even though he was still moaning in pain, none of the men wanted to think about what the blood soaking the crotch of his pants meant, they made sure he was thoroughly bound. Just to make sure he couldn't cause any further troubles.  
Not surprisingly the cavalcade drew attention and speculative whispers as it made its slow way through the Market District on the way to the palace from the Alienage. The whispers grew louder as some of the guards not very subtly propped up Vaughan in the wagon with the rest of the prisoners. The two young lords who hung onto Kendells's coattails sat huddled in one corner looking miserable. Unlike the Arl, the two had families they still had to answer to. Families who had warned them repeatedly that their carousing with the Arl would eventually lead to them getting in trouble.  
Warnings they'd ignored and were now spectacularly coming back to bite them in the tender bits.  
Braden, a dark haired man with sallow skin, muttered to Jonaley, fair of hair and skin, "I think I'd rather the King just give us whatever punishment he wants, it can't be worse than whatever Da would do to me for this."  
"Forget our folks", Jonaley said then paused and cast a sidelong glance at the carriage that was some distance ahead of them. "It's her that I'm worried about."  
His companion thought that over for a long while, then nodded glumly, "Yeah, I hope he doesn't give us to her. I can't believe Vaughan thought this would work."  
The depth of trouble he found himself in had finally kicked in Jonaley's higher brain functions so he wisely didn't point out that they'd both agreed that Vaughan had an excellent plan to teach the silver-haired bitch a lesson. Instead he huddled in on himself even more and prayed to the Maker, Andraste, even the strange gods of the Chasind, or any other merciful deity, that he would survive to reform his ways.  
Propped between two guards, Vaughan's groans changed to cursing as he finally began to recover what few wits he still had left. When he tried to get violent when hes complaints were ignored, he was cuffed on the side of the head by one of his captors. Seated across from them, Captain Kylon grimly said, "You've got troubles enough, my lord. Don't add to them."  
Vaughan snarled, spittle flying out of his mouth with every word, "You have no right to do this! When this farce is over I'm going to put your head on a spike over the main gates of the city as a demonstration of what happens to traitors."  
Unperturbed, Kylon shook his head at the empty threats. "The King is royally pissed off at you as it is. He's going to be even more enraged when he finds out what you tried to do to his betrothed. So you might want to spend this time thinking how to try to appease the man."  
Because he couldn't resist the dig, "Not to mention the fact you just tried to assault the very woman that freed you from captivity."  
"That bitch..." Vaughan faded for a moment as his cheeks flushed and his nostrils flared in rage, "I'm not worried about the supposed King. He's just pussy whipped by that damned Cousland cunt! He has no power to do anything to me."  
Not just those in the wagon with the nobleman stared at him, shocked speechless at not just the insult he'd hurled out about the woman who had saved his sorry hide from Howe. But they were boggled at the fact he thought the King couldn't do anything to him. Even worse, at least in Kylon's opinion, a certain silver-maned head swiveled around to stare in the direction of the idiot. She was far enough away that he couldn't see her face, but he had a good idea from his previous dealings with her. He shook his head, and here he thought the idiots he'd been given during the, mercifully brief, reign of Howe over the city were bad, Kendells really topped them.  
Jonaley moaned in fear as the wagon stopped at the base of the steps to the main entrance to the palace. The guards were anything but gentle when they hauled the prisoners out of the wagons. Vaughan's sell-swords were taken somewhere, while the three nobles were taken through the winding halls to the Landsmeet chamber where Alistair was holding his afternoon audiences due to the small ceremony being held for Anora's oath of fealty.  
Before they entered the chamber, Marlana peeled her gloves off, then took charge of Vaughan by the simple expedient of grabbing one of his ears, twisting it painfully and almost dragged him after her. As the man hobbled along in her wake he muttered curses at her, but she simply ignored the insane ranting. The guards stationed at the great doors hastily flung them open for her. They didn't want to see how she would have opened them since the last time she publicly came to these doors, she'd kicked them open after her confrontation with Cauthrien.  
As she strode in to an astonished audience, one that contained her brother of all people, she shoved Vaughan down on the floor. Planting a foot on the small of his back, unaware of the high color in her face or how her eyes blazed with barely contained fury she called out, "Your Majesty I wish to invoke King's Justice upon this cretin!"


	47. Just Desserts

More worried about Lana's visit to the Alienage than he wanted to admit, Alistair made his way to his study in the hopes that doing some of the mindless reports that were constantly showing up would help distract him. And it wasn't like he was trapped in the palace all of the time, though at the moment it felt like he was trapped in Denerim. And in a way he was.  
While the final battle may have occurred in the city, the horde didn't have a chance to run rampant as badly as was previously believed when the armies gathered under the banner of the Grey Wardens. There had been damage, but not so much that the city was crippled. Since it was the capital of the country and still functioning, naturally it became the center of the efforts in rebuilding Ferelden from the devastation wrought by Blight and civil war.  
A rebuilding he now found himself in charge of. As King. At first that thought had filled him with horror and terror. But now that he was actually in that dreaded position...  
Slowly walking down the halls, he thought over the fact that being King was easier than he expected. It wasn't easy by any means, but it wasn't as horrific as he initially expected. Frowning slightly to himself, he thought that over. Looking back at different conversations he'd had with Lana, he realized she'd been showing him how to be a leader, not specifically as King, but they were still useful for a King. She'd been wiling to explain why, in her family's long experience, certain things did or did not work. And she'd always been willing to hear out his ideas, no matter how silly they seemed in retrospect. Even now she wouldn't belittle his ideas, though he had rendered her speechless a couple of times.  
Wynne and Leliana may have lectured him about the responsibilities of being a ruler, and the others may have derided him in some way, but his lady always tried to bolster his confidence. Even if she got exasperated at him a long the way. Or just gave him that look instead of saying anything.  
He would never admit it to anyone, but he sometimes he came up with outrageous ideas just to see that flabbergasted expression. And even more amused when that busy mind went to work at trying to make those ideas feasible. It made for a nice bit of distraction if he needed it and was careful not to use it too often so it would remain effective. Though that tactic might eventually prove to be a headache for his Chancellor if she ever did manage to find a way to make one of those harebrained schemes work.  
Not surprisingly, another major help in adapting to the throne was his Chancellor. Teagan was knowledgeable in matters of governance in addition to knowing a good bit about a majority of the power players. And if he didn't know someone, he had ways of finding out something about the person in question. It hadn't taken long for them to work together as a team, something that Alistair was enormously grateful for in the first days of ruling when he thought it was all going to come apart at the seams. It helped that the two men had similar work ethics and humor, particularly the humor since there were some days that's all that kept them going. It also helped a great deal that Teagan never made him feel like an idiot no matter what questions he asked in regards to being King.  
Not surprisingly, yet it was in a way, was how enormously helpful Fergus Cousland was. He freely shared the advice he'd gotten from his father over the years. Not to mention being able to recommend books to give Alistair a good foundation to build upon. Of course some of those books had been written by Fergus's ancestors, but considering that the Couslands had been ruling Highever far longer than there had been a concept of Ferelden, he figured they had some idea of how to rule well. The reactions of their vassals to Howe being made Teyrn proved just how loved the Couslands were. Not well was an understatement worthy of Duncan and not just because of the manner of Howe's takeover. He was sure there were a few people who were less than pleased with their hereditary lords, but there was a substantial majority that did care for the Couslands. Like Teagan, Fergus knew a bit about a large number of nobles, some of whom the Chancellor didn't know very well.  
Really, he had no idea what a pair of gossips his adopted uncle and future brother were. That is until he asked them about a particularly annoying daughter of a minor bann who wouldn't take no for an answer when Lana was still unconscious. Fortunately for everyone, especially the pushy chit, the girl had enough sense to back off when Lana was back up and around. He didn't want to see what would happen if she'd kept up the nonsense. And not just Lana's reaction, Fergus hadn't been terribly pleased either.  
Lost in thought over the family he was going to be marrying into in just a couple of months, Alistair wandered into his study. It took a moment for him to realize that Fergus was indeed sitting in front of his desk. Wondering if he finally lost his mind, Alistair blinked owlishly at his future brother. What convinced him that Fergus was indeed there was the slightly guilty look the other man gave him as he put down the green eyed, miniature golem doll he'd been toying with. Scattered across the desk, amidst the various documents and books on the massive expanse, was the rest of the set where Alistair had left them.  
Not even remotely offended, if he didn't want them fiddled with he wouldn't have them out on his desk, he beamed at Fergus, "They're great aren't they? Lana got them for me."  
Fergus gave him a bemused look, "Yes, they are."  
Alistair flopped down into his chair before he started to casually started sorting through the cr-, er reports left for him during the hour he spent sparring with Lana, and decided a large portion of it he could foist off on Giles. Maybe then his secretary would stop complaining about not enough work. Which was absurdly silly of the man to give him that kind of challenge. It took a moment for the odd tone to sink in before he gave his future brother a questioning look at the other, "Something wrong with them?"  
"No. Just...what'd she do to give something like this?"  
Despite himself, Alistair felt himself blush as he replied, "Oh, well, when we argue we have other ways of making up. That was a just because thing, because she thought I'd like it. Giving stuff as just because is something she's done for as long as I've known her."  
He studied the blue eyed golem he unconsciously kept close to him at all times when he was in his office to give Fergus a chance to stop blushing as well before saying, "You'd think I'd be used to it by now."  
"Used to what?"  
"That Lana not just listens to me, but she remembers things I've told her. Even things that were months if not almost a year ago."  
Fergus groaned, "Try growing up with someone like that."  
"I'm sure it would've been interesting."  
"That's one way of putting it. Father always did say she listened too much and I didn't listen enough", Fergus said absently. But it was clear that there was something else on his mind than his feisty sister or lost family.  
Alistair tilted his head and considered Fergus thoughtfully. It'd been almost a month since he'd last seen the man, but he certainly looked much better. The hollowed eyes and cheeks had filled out with rest and food. So it took Alistair a moment to realize that it was fury that he saw in those amber eyes. Thank the Maker it wasn't as terrifying as his sister's. Still, to be on the safe side he asked carefully, "What's wrong?"  
Fergus stood up, carefully placed a sealed parchment in front of Alistair. Judging by the thickness it contained several pages. As he began to carefully open the seal, Fergus said tightly, no longer able to hide his rage, "As Teyrn of Highever, I'm asking for the King's Justice on another noble."  
It was the King who stared at Teyrn Cousland in shock, not Alistair at his friend and brother. "What?"  
"If you would be so kind, Your Majesty, please read it first." That Fergus called him by his title rather than name was rather telling. Then the Teyrn began to pace back and forth the length of the room. Familiar with that particular little quirk from Lana, Alistair kept a half eye on Fergus as he read. Then he read it again. And again for a third time. For the first time, he could understand just how Marlana's true rage could be icy since that's all he could feel. A terrible fury that left him cold and empty of anything else.  
Unable to say anything to Fergus just yet, he shoved his chair back as he got to his feet, stalked over to the door and yanked it open. A back portion of his mind marveled at his control in not ripping the door off its hinges in his anger. Of course the door was made of good, solid oak so it was hung on equally heavy hinges. But still, he was angry enough that he was tempted to see how solid they really were, but that would be beneath him. The foremost part of his mind had other things to occupy it. Like not finding the offender that he just read about, so he could slaughter the bastard wherever he was.  
The guards out in the hall instantly came to attention when they saw his expression. One asked very, very carefully, "Sire?"  
"I want you to get Captain Kylon of the city guard now. No delays are acceptable."  
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The talker hustled off, leaving his fellow to eye the King warily. When the King quietly thanked them before returning to the room, closing the door too gently behind him, the guard heaved a sigh of relief. No one had seen Alistair's temper like that before, but there'd been speculation since he could handle the Lady Cousland in a rage that he might have a temper of his own. It was well known that the Lady's fury could be like a force of nature, not that she displayed that level of temper very often, but it was good to know that the King had a temper to match if he was so inclined.  
By the end of the day the word had spread amongst the staff and guards, but with an odd sense of pride. It was rare to see someone in Alistair's position display temper that wasn't directed at the first available victim, justified or not. Yet, it was good to see the spine displayed by that temper. It was the temper of a grown man, not a temper tantrum of someone much younger. Unlike his predecessor who was supposedly a few years older.  
Those who served didn't fear the temper of either royal,since they were given a level of courtesy they had very rarely received from... the previous rulers or their guests. The attractive females were particularly grateful for the changes. They hadn't been forced outright, but there had been a great deal of pressure implied when one got the attention of their King. Alistair may have looked liked Cailan, but personality wise was very different, and as far as the servants were concerned the differences were a vast improvement.  
The staff wasn't surprised that the future Queen treated them with the respect that she did, or rather certain members weren't surprised. After all, she was Bryce and Eleanor Cousland's child and they had treated those assigned to them with that rare courtesy.  
Had he been aware of the gossip, Alistair would have been equally horrified and amused. Fortunately, he was unaware of it and by the time he returned his attention back to Fergus, his temper had cooled down enough to be civil. Fergus had stopped pacing, but didn't sit back down since he still had plenty of energy from nerves and anger. He'd been on edge since the day he left Highever for Denerim with his demand thinly veiled as a request regarding the contents of the packet he'd given Alistair.  
Trying to keep his own temper under control, Alistair returned to his desk to finish looking through the correspondence left for him that morning. Experience at keeping an eye on Lana when she was about to explode came in useful as he skimmed through the letters while talking with Fergus. Thankfully while Fergus was clearly angry it didn't reach the levels of scary the man's younger sister could reach. And sorting through the crap helped Alistair calm down with the comfort of mindless routine.  
"The report didn't give exact details of the victim", Alistair commented, trying to keep his tone neutral, "but I'm going to make a guess. The victim was a young elven woman? And how did you finally get the details about the...attack?"  
"Girl", Fergus corrected, trying not to snarl, "She's just barely fifteen. As for finding out, the girl sought out the Revered Mother for advice when she was too terrified of her own family. In turn Mother Serena convinced her that her family could be trusted for all that they consisted of all men since her mother died when she was very young. Her father came to me once he felt he could talk to me somewhat rationally."  
For a moment all he could see was red, so Alistair very carefully placed the document in hand on the surface before him. This was one of the rare times he really was grateful for the discipline learned as a templar. Otherwise Alistair would be storming out of the castle to hunt the prick down himself and not calling for the city guard to haul in the creep for him. He suspected seeing their King in a black rage wouldn't help the morale of the citizens of the city. He gave voice to one main thought in response, "Thank the Maker that Lana isn't in the palace at the moment."  
A visible shudder rippled through Fergus's frame at the thought, despite his own anger. "I am grateful for that. Where is she anyway?"  
Despite the seriousness of the situation the corner of Alistair's mouth quirked up slightly, "Ah the irony that rules her life. The Alienage looking into, hm what was the phrase she used? Right. Misappropriation of Crown funds."  
The look of utter disbelief on the older Cousland sibling's face would have been absolutely hysterical to Alistair under other circumstances. "Why didn't you send word to have her fetched back to the palace when you called for the city guard?"  
For a moment Alistair was speechless as he tried to figure out how to respond politely. Realizing there was no diplomatic way to say it, he just spoke his mind, "Fetch her? Are you insane? You do remember what your sister is like, right?"  
The Teyrn blinked then coughed, "You're right. I didn't think, just the thought that Lana might be in danger again, this time unknowingly..."  
Leaning back in his chair, Alistair sighed, "Well, she didn't go in alone or unprepared. The very capable Edwards dug up another guard that met his standards. Two of her Wardens are with her, not to mention Oogie. Besides she went armed and armored. Just in case."  
Fergus plopped back down into his chair, his breath exhaling in a heavy sigh, but still angry, "So if you knew what that miserable bastard's been up to, why are you letting him run around terrorizing people?"  
Alistair growled, "I'm not letting him do anything. I didn't have proof until now and I'm not going to act just on rumor. I know I look too much like Cailan for my comfort, but I'm not some idiot with his head stuffed with tales and I know my duty to my people!"  
When Fergus only blinked in astonishment at him, Alistair continued on tightly, "It's why Lana went to the Alienage. For proof. Even if it's just stealing gold and supplies from the royal treasury, it gives me something to act on. The elves will respond to her better than some flunky and I know she'll do her best for them. And there's been rumors of other problems which is why she went in with a small army disguised as an even smaller group of guards."  
More than a little ruefully, "I'm sorry, Alistair. I didn't mean to insult you. And you'd think by now I'd have calmed down, but this on top of everything else the rest of my people have suffered..."  
"Oh, that's quite all right. And I'm sorry for lumping you in with the idiots. Normally, I'd offer a drink, but it's a little early in the day, so all I can offer is cider or whatever it is they put in the pitcher this morning. There's also some cheese and bread if you want." Alistair grinned as Fergus stared at him in shock then laughed ruefully. One of the few good things about the Warden appetite combined with being King was the fact the staff kept him well supplied with food and drink. Since they tended to try to overfeed him, he used the extra to distract visitors.  
He'd just filled a couple of mugs with what was indeed cider when a discreet knock came at the door. It opened at his yelled, "Enter!"  
A rather bemused Teagan entered the room with Giles at his heels, the secretary took one look at the King's guest, quietly murmured, "Your Majesty, Your Grace", before taking the piled correspondence that Alistair had set to the side then hurried off to his office.  
Used to his secretary's nervousness, Alistair just shook his head then turned a blinding smile on Teagan, "Good morning my Chancellor! What can I do for you today?"  
The older man tried to glower in return, but it was barely halfhearted, even as Fergus tried to smother his grin at Alistair's overly exuberant greeting. Giving in gracefully, Teagan smiled back, a much more genuine expression, "I'm a little afraid to ask why you called for Captain Kylon."  
All smiles fled at that question, and it was a grim faced King that handed the Chancellor the damning document. Teagan sat down numbly in a free chair, "Sweet Andraste, I knew the man is a wastrel, but to do this? And did Lana see this before she want to the Alienage?"  
"Thank the Maker", was the fervent response at the mute shake of Alistair's head. Despite the grimness of the situation, all three men smiled a little. Somewhat hesitantly Teagan continued, "Didn't you say something about giving him to her if he did anything like this? It looks like the assault occurred after your coronation."  
"I did, but I didn't expect him to be that stupid. Normally I would let my beloved do whatever she wanted, but Fergus has asked for King's Justice. And...", he trailed off uncertainly. Both men looked at him curiously. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "The nobles are scared enough of her as it is. She tries to act like it doesn't bother her, but I know it does to some degree. So I'll deal with the matter."  
"And what do you intend to do?" Teagan asked neutrally.  
"Well, since I don't think it would go over well if I strung him up by the balls over the gates to the city", he paused as they all chuckled at that image, then continued on more seriously, "I figured I'd strip him of his titles and at the least exile him from the country. And depending on what Lana finds, more than likely execute him."  
As the other two digested his intentions, he commented, "This afternoon's audience should prove to be interesting. Giving one noble back their title and lands while stripping another."  
Fergus's brow wrinkled slightly as he thought over who might still be dispossessed of their lands, "Who are you restoring? I'm not aware of anyone that you haven't taken care of except... You aren't..."  
"I'm not what?" Alistair asked as he began to write out the orders for Vaughan Kendells's arrest, wondering what was taking Kylon so long to get there.  
Amber eyes widened in horror, "You're giving Gwaren back to Anora? Are you mad? You know that's going to bite you in the ass."  
Rubbing his forehead, Alistair tried not to sigh as Teagan started to run through the reasoning that had convinced him to restore Anora. Not that he disagreed with Fergus, he strongly suspected that making Anora the Teyrna of Gwaren was going to bite him in the ass. But he also recognized that as King, there were some things he had to do that he didn't like. Things such as trying to play nice with people he thought were worse than snakes.  
And if she proved to be as treacherous as her father...well, she'd be dealt with in the same manner.  
A soft knock on the door interrupted the beginning of a debate between Chancellor and Teyrn. Relieved at the interruption, and hoping that it didn't mean even worse tidings, Alistair called out, "Yes?"  
The guard sent to retrieve the guard captain entered the room. After thumping his chest in salute he said, "Captain Kylon as you requested, Sire."  
"Good. Send him in." Another salute and the guard was gone, replaced by the weathered guard that Alistair had first met with Lana a year before. At the time Kylon had been a Sergeant of the guard, tasked with patrolling the worst parts of the city with guardsmen of dubious quality. He'd recognized the two Wardens and instead of turning them in to Howe or Loghain's men, he'd covered for them. Then gave them work at Lana's request while they first tried to find Brother Genitivi. Then gave them more work while they waited on the supplies for the expedition to Haven. That was when they got their first inkling of the issues that had actually been troubling the city for years. Besides what they'd seen in their travels in the rest of the county, some of which had been truly abhorrent conditions. Which were from situations that weren't related to the Blight or Civil War.  
Alistair couldn't help but note that there was a difference in the Captain's attitude now, as he had noted the change in the previous meetings. The man still had that world weary air, something he couldn't blame him for considering his job, but Kylon now had a bit of pride about his "boys and girls". Unlike the utter disgust and contempt he had for the wastrels he'd been forced to deal with during Howe's brief tenure over the city. From what he'd heard, there'd been a drastic change for the better in the guard since Kylon was put in charge. While there were signs of improvement in some of the worst areas, partly helped by the darkspawn invasion of the city, there'd been a few unhappy encounters with patrolmen and Vaughan Kendells.  
Not knowing the exact details of what happened, but considering the people involved, Alistair was inclined to give his support to the poor souls that had to deal with the nobleman. He had a feeling what he was about to ask the Captain to do would be quite welcome.  
"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" Kylon asked with evident curiosity, since it was rare for the King to see him. If someone in the palace needed his assistance, he usually met with Lady Marlana, who was a true pleasure to deal with in his opinion since she had a good, professional manner to her. It also helped that she, and the current King, along with their companions, had utterly destroyed some of the worst gangs plaguing the city.  
"Indeed, there's a matter I'd like you to handle." With a tight smile, Alistair handed over his orders for the arrest of one Vaughan Kendells, Arl of Denerim. Kylon's eyebrows flew up in surprise that he couldn't hide as he read over the orders. Once he finished, he started to say something, then stopped. Alistair quirked up a brow, "Is there a problem, Captain?"  
"No problem at all, Your Majesty. Just that if it were anyone other than Kendells, I'd ask what I'm bringing him in for, but I can well imagine the offenses in this case."  
"Good. I want that miserable sack of shit brought to me in chains before the end of the day, Captain." He ignored the startled reactions from the others in the room at both the vicious tone in his voice and the crude description he used for the nobleman. Kylon, to his credit, didn't blink as he said with a touch of malicious glee, "It will be my pleasure, Sire."  
"Thank you, Captain."  
Kylon saluted, then headed off. Even through the closed doors they could hear, "All right, boys, the King is sending us to teach that idiotic fop a lesson or three."  
Despite the serious nature of the situation, the three men couldn't help grinning a bit at the enthusiasm that was expressed. Then Teagan sighed, "I'm sorry, Alistair, but I'm afraid there's a few things we need to go over."  
Alistair nodded, "Of course, I didn't intend to devote so much time to that filth."  
Fergus quietly excused himself, but before he could go, Alistair stopped him with a slight grin, "If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you were at the audience today. It should be interesting."  
When he paused to consider what was asked, Alistair quietly commented, "It's a request from me as Alistair. Not a command from your King. Besides, if Kylon does bring in Vaughan as quickly as I hope, you'll also get to see the justice you requested."  
"Very true. I'll see you then, my friend."  
After quietly bidding Fergus farewell for the moment, Alistair rubbed his forehead a bit as he turned his attention to the matters that had brought Teagan to his office in the first place. Soon after Fergus had left, Giles returned to take charge of the rest of the correspondence as well as notes of the meeting. As he studied the information brought to him by Teagan a few times, the incipient headache he had from Fergus's visit started to bloom into something close to a migraine.  
With a heavy heart, he asked, "Let me get this straight. We may starve this coming winter, not just from possibly not enough crops planted during spring, but because there may not be enough hands to help with the harvest?"  
"That's the long and the short of it, Alistair", Teagan said with a heavy sigh of his own. "A lot of people fled the country after Ostagar. More died due to the fighting and Blight sickness."  
Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose, "I seem to recall having quite a few people in Denerim who need work. It may be temporary, but surely they can be taught something to help?"  
"Possibly, but it may not be enough."  
"Maker help us, we'll have to buy supplies... Can we afford that?"  
"If we're careful and stay to the basic staples, yes. Barely, but we can."  
Restless, Alistair got up and started pacing slowly, trying to think. "All right then. I'd like to see what our options are before we go straight to Orlais. I don't have any direct problems with them, but Loghain, damn his soul, stirred up people's suspicions. Suspicions I'd rather not encourage. And if some of the rumors are true..." He trailed off, not wanting to think about what those rumors were saying.  
But he couldn't help himself, not after Euphrobia's very displeased comments about the actions of the Wardens in Orlais during the Blight. Not to mention Kendrick's confirmation about being a virtual prisoner himself after he headed to Orlais for reinforcements after the debacle at Ostagar. He also couldn't help noticing that most of the Antivan Wardens that had been "detained" remained in Ferelden to assist in doing what they could to help the Blighted areas start the slow process of recovery. Only a few had gone back home to act as messengers to let that chapter of the Order know what happened. Officially, they were there to help bolster Ferelden ranks. Unofficially, they wanted to keep an eye on the Orlesian Wardens to make sure they didn't get into trouble.  
That some Wardens were getting involved in politics in such a way to keep fellow Wardens from doing their duty was more than a little troubling.  
Teagan nodded, his eyes full of understanding, "Of course, I'll see what's available."  
"Good. Also see if there's anyway we can bring our people back from wherever they ran off to."  
That comment caused Teagan to wince. "Alistair..."  
"What? It's true. They ran off somewhere. I can understand why. I wanted to run away more than once, but didn't because I didn't have that kind of luxury with being one of the last two Ferelden Wardens. And no sign of any other Wardens showing up. Besides, it meant leaving Lana on her own and that's something I couldn't do, even before we got involved."  
He shrugged and stopped pacing to study the map of Thedas he had put up on the wall opposite the massive map of Ferelden. Teagan remained silent, somewhat bemused and curious to see where Alistair was going with his thoughts. "Considering the guard Loghain had on the Orlais border, I imagine most of them went off to the Free Marches. And when you think of how the rest of the world sees the 'Ferelden Dog Lords', I imagine they aren't too welcome wherever they went."  
The big man scratched at the scruff on his chin as he thought over the situation some more then made an annoyed sound, "We wouldn't be able to get them back in time to make a difference."  
"I doubt it, but that might be a good place to make the arrangements for the supplies. I'm told that Kirkwall is still a very active trading hub, we just need a representative."  
"All right, see if you can dig someone up. Might want to check with Bodhan Feddic for suggestions."  
"Bodhan... The name is familiar, but I can't place it."  
"The dwarven trader that traveled with us during the Blight. Initially he was tagging along from Lothering to any town that he could setup shop at. But he just ended up being a permanent fixture with our happy little group. Taught Lana way too much about haggling, even if she does things differently from the rest of us."  
He grinned at the horrified expression on his Chancellor's face. "You know, Bodhan had the exact same look more than once when Lana, Leli and Morrigan did the shopping for our supplies."  
Teagan's look of horror deepened, "While I never talked much with Morrigan, I do remember that she is a rather... formidable woman." Alistair couldn't help but snort at the description, but Teagan continued on without being put off, "The fact that you let the three of them do the shopping -"  
"Whoa, stop right there. Let? It was more like staying out of their way. And to give them credit, even Morrigan, they were fairly effective when they worked together." Alistair cleared his throat, "Right then. Anything else? Please tell me there aren't any cheese shortages!" Alistair finished with a dramatic flourish in the hopes of breaking the tension.  
Giles eyed him warily while Teagan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement, "No, nothing quite so terrible..."  
They finished the last of their business in time for lunch. With lunch came Lana's message about being delayed. Staring down at the note, he absently drummed his fingers on the desktop debating if he should send more guards to bring her home, despite his comments to the contrary to Fergus. And just as quickly discarded the idea. Her wording held annoyance and none of their codes that rescue was needed. Though he didn't like the sharp, spiky look of her handwriting, which was normally smooth and elegant.  
Anytime he had to describe anything about Lana as sharp and spiky meant that she was angry about something. An angry Marlana generally didn't bode well for anyone. Yet the elven boy who delivered the message said she was fine, just a little tired and annoyed at the "stuff" piled on the table before her, the Elder, Shianni and the two local clerks. It had taken a bit of prying to get the information, since the child was in awe at talking to the King and kept staring at his feet out of nervousness. Remembering what that kind of awkwardness was like, Alistair tried to be as gentle as possible in his questioning.  
Satisfied that all was as well it could be, he'd sent the boy off with a servant to make sure the boy had been fed before he returned home. And that there was a generous tip given, not enough to put the child at risk, but enough to hopefully give a little short term help to the lad.  
If all went as planned, there'd be some longer term help in play for all of the city.  
Trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy that descended on him, he started looking through the correspondence that he hadn't foisted off on Giles. He snorted when the first item he picked up was from Anora. Wondering if the woman had changed her mind at the last minute, he ripped open the missive. Then snorted again when he skimmed through the brief message. He muttered to himself, "If that's how you want it, fine by me."  
Shaking his head at what was really a minor matter in the face of everything else that had been occurring, Alistair left to get ready for the afternoon audiences after scrawling out his response. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, and really the request wasn't that bad. It's just that it came from a person he couldn't stand. But one he'd have to learn to deal with. As he started to don his armor, he mentally cursed out his predecessors for the messes left in their wake. Not for the first time and probably not the last either.  
The afternoon audiences went by quickly, far quicker than they normally did and with far fewer petitions than the norm, despite the number of people gathered. He had the impression people were mainly there to see what would happen when Anora arrived to make her oath of fealty. Teagan quietly asked, as the last petitioner bowed their way away, but didn't leave the chamber, "I wonder which spectacle they're here for."  
From the other side, Fergus grunted, but kept his voice low, "Right now there's only going to be one if Vaughan doesn't show up soon. I thought Kylon would've brought him in by now."  
A slight nod from Alistair, as he too spoke softly, "I know, but I'm more worried about Lana. There's been no further word, Teagan?"  
"I'm afraid not."  
Watching the guards at the massive double doors at the opposite end of the room, Alistair lightly said, "Well, since there hasn't been anyone running in yelling about fires, blood flowing down the streets or people just running around screaming 'Maker save us!' I'm going to assume that nothing untoward has happened."  
There was a muffled snort of laughter from Fergus as Teagan said exasperatedly, "Alistair."  
Seeing movement at the doors, Alistair said grimly, "However once this is over and there's still no word, I'm going to rip the city apart to find her."  
As Fergus was about to reply, one of the doors opened enough to allow a small party into the chamber. The herald of the court announced, "Lady Anora Mac Tir!"  
When the two men on either side of him jolted slightly in surprise, Alistair belatedly realized that he hadn't told anyone else about the message from Anora. As the woman in question slowly made her way up the aisle to the dais the throne was on, Teagan muttered, "You knew and didn't tell me?"  
Stifling his sigh, he muttered back, "Just before the audience." The King's voice shifted to a falsetto whisper with an uncannily good mimicry of Anora's voice, "To honor my father's legacy."  
Chancellor and Teyrn both had slight coughing fits as Alistair's expression remained deceptively bland. That mask became difficult to maintain the closer Anora came to the throne. Finally she reached the bottom stair and knelt before it.  
Alistair got to his feet, and was quietly pleased that he could make his voice sound vaguely pleasant. What he was about to do was anything but pleasant in his mind."Please stand, Lady Mac Tir."  
She stood, and he studied her for a moment. And was rather surprised to see her wearing a rather demur rose colored dress with gold accents, her hair in a neat coif. He'd honestly expected her to show up in some elaborate getup, nor did he expect the oddly downcast look to her expression. He was fairly certain she was up to something, but what it was, he didn't have the faintest idea, but he resolved to remain on guard during the brief ceremony. Which he still had memorized from when he'd been coronated a month and a half before, and seemed like a lifetime ago. He'd had to personally accept the oaths of all the nobility so he still had all the responses by rote.  
Sometimes he wondered if he said it in his sleep. He'd asked Lana once who just gave him an amused look, but didn't say either way.  
Thinking of Lana at that moment didn't help. It wasn't in her nature to say she'd be somewhere at a certain time and not show up. He jerked his mind back to the matter at hand, not wanting to provide any ammunition for Anora to use against him due to his mind wandering. After accepting her oath, which included forswearing any claim on the throne for her and any heirs she may have, Alistair firmly announced, "Then I grant to you, Anora Mac Tir, the Teyrn of Gwaren with all of its lands and titles. May you rule your lands wisely."  
She curtsied to him as she clearly said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."  
It was a credit to her that she managed to sound gracious as she thanked him and that she managed a pleasantly neutral expression throughout the ceremony. He nodded to her and as she started to say something else, both massive doors were flung open.  
A furious Marlana Cousland strode through the opening, with Vaughan Kendells hunched over and hobbling at her side, one ear held firmly in her grip, on the other side of the nobleman was a very angry looking Oogie. The trickle of blood from the man's abused ear was proof that she'd been anything but gentle and the mabari bared his fangs anytime Kendells just so much as twitched. Behind them were a group of frightened, but determined looking elven women led by a woman whose golden hair was escaping its ponytail and her eyes held a verdant fire of anger. Escorting the elves in a protective detail were the men who were supposed to be escorting Lana.  
The odd group hadn't gotten very far when Lana shoved Vaughan down on the floor. Planting a foot on the small of his back, she yelled, "Your Majesty, I wish to invoke King's Justice upon this cretin!"  
Kendells yelped, then before he could anything else, she leaned over and seemingly just touched his neck. The man went limp and Lana straitened up with a viciously satisfied glint in her eyes. Alistair just hoped that whatever poison she used was of the short term variety and nothing permanent. That could be for later.  
A small portion of the back of his mind noted that Fergus jolted slightly beside him when she used the same phrasing that her brother had that morning. The main part of his mind was taking in the look she had and was silently amazed that the idiot on the ground before her was still alive. The only other time he'd seen her that murderous was seeing Isolde at Redcliffe, and then it had taken Leliana and Wynne to help him hold her down.  
Then again, Vaughan didn't piss Lana off the way Isolde did. Though he was a little amused that she settled for the word cretin, he expected much worse. He cast a glance at Fergus who was trying to keep a straight face, and had a hard time keeping his expression sober. Her brother had that look. The one he had all too often when Lana was being herself and following whatever "logic" was going through that devious brain.  
Not wanting to shout across the massive room, he said, "Someone drag that piece of shit up here since I don't feel like yelling across the hall. I have business with him anyway and this is as good a time as any to deal with him. If you'll excuse me, Teyrna? Though you're more than welcome to stay for this."  
For a brief moment Anora looked at him blankly, and inclined her head a thoughtful look in those summer-sky blue eyes, "I think I will remain, Sire. This should prove to be instructional."  
As a couple of guards hauled Kendells to his feet and dragged him up to the dais, Alistair suddenly realized that if things were as bad as he suspected, he might be able to take care of a couple of problems with one solution.  
It'd likely end up with his ass getting kicked in private, but it would be well worth it.  
As the odd procession made its way to where the King waited, the gathered audience remained silent, none of them wanting to draw Lana's ire in their direction. More than one looked like they were either going to flee or faint and sagged with relief when she passed by without glancing in their direction.  
Everyone's attention, except for Lana's group, was drawn back to the doors due to some muffled yelling as more guards dragged in another two lordlings who were also bound by chains. When they realized where they were, they fell silent after one of them moaned, "We're so fucked."  
There were a few faint twitters of nervous laughter, but it didn't last long under the growing tension. That Marlana hadn't killed Vaughan and his cronies the way she had with Howe and Loghain indicated a measure of self-control most of the nobility weren't aware she had. A fact that made her even more dangerous when it was clear she was in a killing rage.  
An older man, his skin weathered from long days in the outdoors, whose receding black hair was going gray, though his age did nothing to diminish his powerful build, nor was concealed behind his court finery, stepped out into Marlana's path. His jaw clenched as he made himself say civilly, "My lady, why do you have my son in chains? I can understand that scoundrel Vaughan being dragged before the king, but Braden?"  
Wintry didn't even begin to describe the look she gave him, but while her tone was frigid, she was equally polite, "Your son needs to keep better company that won't lead him into doing things people will regret, Bann Everett."  
"M'lady, if I may?" Kallian asked as nicely as she could, though her green eyes shimmered with anger and fear.  
Marlana regarded her for a moment then inclined her head slightly, "If you're sure, Kallian. You may have to repeat your story again in front of the entire gathering here."  
The elven woman's chin went up defiantly, "I'm aware of that, and they need to know what kinda scum they been harboring."  
Everett's expression turned furious as his face reddened from his anger, "How dare you call my son such things? And you!" He turned to Marlana, "Allowing one such as her to -"  
"Have a care, Lord Everett", Marlana said coldly, not caring that she cut him off or about what he wanted to say. She gestured for Kallian to continue, who bobbed her head in thanks then turned back to the lord who was now starting to slowly turn purple from ill concealed rage, "Your son is a rapist, m'lord and there's no coverin' up the fact. Him an his two friends there."  
She spat in disgust in the direction of the three noblemen to the horrified reaction of the crowd. Hoping to keep the situation in hand, Alistair raised his voice, "I think perhaps you should come up here and start from the beginning."  
"Gladly, Your Majesty", the golden haired elf responded and started to stride up the aisle, taking the lead since it seemed that there was someone in power who was finally going to take the plight of her people to heart. Other than the scary human woman that had taken a protective interest. Lana followed along, having positioned herself so that she was clearly guarding the other woman, her hands not very subtly hovering near the weapons at her side.  
Soft whispers broke the previously heavy silence as the now larger group arrived before Alistair who by now wasn't bothering to hide his growing irritation. He turned that annoyed gaze to Marlana, "M'dear, would you be so kind as to explain what exactly is going on?"  
In a clear, strong voice, she replied, "Gladly. It started with my visit to the Alienage due to discrepancies that were appearing between the supplies and funds being disbursed by the Crown to certain areas of the city..."  
Keeping the long day as brief as possible without losing important details as she summed up her meeting with Elder Valendrian and Shianni. When she got to Kendells ambush and the blood mage that had served Howe and was now serving Kendells that a furious outburst erupted. After a great deal of yelling on Alistair's part, they finally settled down enough to hear Tammrel's and Kendrick's testimony. Which only set them off again.  
During the second eruption from the crowd, Marlana didn't miss Anora's slight flinch at the mention of the mage and wondered at the reaction.  
When the voices got louder instead of quieter, Alistair ended up bellowing, "Enough! If anyone cannot act with a degree of restraint, I will have them escorted from this chamber!"  
The crowded quieted, but didn't fall completely silent. Instead there was a soft ripple of murmurs as people commented to one another. No one wanted to miss what was going to happen to Vaughan Kendells, not after all he'd done. Or the rumors of what he'd done.  
Lord Everett snarled at Kallian, "You still haven't explained your baseless accusation of my son."  
She gave him a deceptively bland look, "I was lettin' the lady explain the situation, but since yer not gonna give her that chance, I'll tell you why I said what I did. And it ain't baseless. Fer me, it started over a year ago, before the betrayal at Ostagar..."  
In the wooden tone that some survivors of traumatic events have when speaking of said events, Kallian spoke of the disruptions at her wedding, the abduction that cut it off, the death of her friend Nola at the hands of the guards, what Vaughan and the two lordlings did to the women during the time they were held against their will for the Arl's "party". What she'd seen done to some other human women who appeared to be peasants that had been at the wrong place at the wrong time that "no one would notice were missing". How those women didn't survive Vaughan's attention.  
She shook when she spoke of being tossed down at the gate of the Alienage like a piece of garbage, but her tone remained horrifyingly even. During that recitation several people left the chamber, looks of sickened horror in their eyes, when she finally fell silent, the chamber had already done so. The audience stared at the imprisoned noblemen with sickened disbelief as Shianni and the other women huddled behind Kallian and Marlana, shivering in fear that their memories evoked in them.  
In a soft voice, Anora broke the silence, "If you'll pardon me, Your Majesty. I have a question."  
Alistair slanted a narrow glance at her direction, but inclined his head in acknowledgment. Very carefully she asked Kallian, "Why didn't you come to Cailan? He was still in Denerim at the time, even he would have done something."  
Kallian uttered barked a mirthless laugh, "We did! An was turned away saying that he wouldn't deal with the likes of us. An we went ta the guard, what they said ain't worth repeatin'."  
The a great deal of uncomfortable shifting amongst most of the nobility, including Anora. Since most of them might have reacted in a similar fashion if they didn't get the entire story. Except Alistair, Teagan and the two Couslands looked furious at the thought of victims of such terrible crimes could be turned away by those who had the power to help them. Who had the responsibility to help them.  
Before anyone else could act, Bann Everett glared at his son.  
Harshly, he demanded of the younger man, "Braden, if this woman is lying through her teeth, I want to look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't do any of those disgusting actions. And by the Maker I will make her pay for trying to smear your reputation."  
Slowly, Braden raised his head, took in his father's expression, couldn't meet the furious expression, dropped his head down again. Mutely he shook his head.  
When there was no denial, Everett seemed to deflate and seemingly aged by twenty years. In a broken voice, he said, "He's yours to do with as you wish, Your Majesty."  
Shoulders slumped, the Bann slowly began to walk away after Alistair nodded his assent, sympathy warring with anger in his eyes. The King was far too furious to say anything at that moment.  
Realizing that his father was leaving without another word, Braden asked desperately, "Da?"  
Not stopping or looking back, Everett said emptily, "No son of mine would do such terrible things."  
Braden stared at his father's retreating back. Finally Kendells came out of his poison induced daze, snarling, "Silver haired bitch! When I'm out of these ridiculous chains, I will teach you a lesson you will never forget. Sire, you must teach that whore of yours better manners before you let her out in public again."  
There were horrified gasps at the man's foul comments as sapphire eyes went blank of all emotion. Having been told about that particular little warning sign of imminent bloodshed, Edwards clamped his hands on his Lady's shoulders while Kendrick and Delindro grabbed her wrists before she could do something really unpleasant in response to the insults. On the dais, Teagan and Fergus were attempting to do the same with Alistair, but with less success as the warrior proved just how strong he was by easily pulling out of their grasp.  
Furious, he strode over to the bound and prostrated nobleman and glared down at him. It was in that moment he proved just what kind of measure of restraint he truly had learned from his templar training when he did not grab that "miserable piece of shit" to strangle him. Or worse. Instead he towered over the man and didn't bother to hide the malice in his voice, "That is quite enough out of you, Kendells. What do you say to the charges brought against you?"  
Kendells sneered, "You honestly care about a little rough play with some knife-eared bitches and common whores?"  
"The law applies to everyone, high or low", Marlana spoke with sweet venom, yet all too calmly. She easily slid out of the clutch of her guardians, yet didn't make a move towards to Kendells. As much as she wanted to decorate the chamber with his blood and guts, this was not the time for violence. She felt Anora alternate between studying her and Alistair, but at that moment she didn't particularly care what the woman was thinking. There were a great many faults to the woman, but it wasn't like she'd kidnapped, brutalized, raped and murdered innocent women. And possibly children if she understood some of the carefully worded comments from the elven women correctly.  
"And it's the responsibility of those in power to protect those under that power!" Fergus roared. Lana blinked in astonishment at her brother. Not at the sentiment he voiced, but that he was well and truly pissed off, a state her normally affable and laid back sibling rarely reached.  
Kendells sneered, "This is none of your business, Cousland."  
Fergus growled, "It became my business when due to you the fifteen year old daughter of one of my craftsmen has lost the use of her left eye and can't bear being near any male, including her father and brothers. They found her unconscious in the ditch you left her to die in and only recently has started talking to anyone."  
"Like the bloody knife-ear is telling the truth."  
Very, very carefully the Teyrn said, "I never said what her race is, Vaughan Kendells. But, aye, she is an elf."  
Caught, Kendells stared at Fergus with hate and fear, but didn't say anything. There was nothing else he could say.  
Alistair cast a hard look at Braden who hadn't looked at anyone since his father so publicly disowned him and Jonaley who hadn't said anything the entire time they were before the King. "So do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?"  
Braden shook his head, Jonaley didn't even do that much, his shock at the situation making him near catatonic. Displaying no sign of his normal good humor, Alistair nodded sharply to himself after asking a quiet question of Teagan. "Then as king this is my decision. Vaughan Kendells, Braden Everettson, and Jonaley of Whiteflower, are hereby stripped of their titles for the crimes committed against the persons of the women here and young Catelyn Smith of Highever. As well as associating with a blood mage and using that mage on an attempted assault upon Lady Marlana Cousland. And in a week's time you will be executed for those crimes."  
There was a quiet stir amongst the nobility, while Braden groaned and Vaughan started to curse viciously and Jonaley continued his blank stare. Alistair relentlessly continued, "I'm giving you a week out of a very large benefit of the doubt that you may have been under that mage's influence. Since I don't sense any magic on you, I truly believe that you did commit those atrocities of your own free will, particularly in the cases of Kallian Tabris, Shianni Tabris, and Nola of Denerim, because there was no mention of that mage before this. But this way we will be sure."  
He surveyed the chamber and a slight glint of something entered his eyes, "As for the lands and titles...the ones held by Jonaley and Braden well be returned to their families. I hope their successors are wiser people. As for the Arling of Denerim... There is one person who has been active in not just rebuilding the city since that terrible battle a few months ago, but had been trying to stamp out the crime and chaos that plagued the city during the time Howe had been ruling the city."  
Lana narrowed her eyes slightly at him, but didn't otherwise react, even as she felt all eyes turn towards her, trying to ignore the sudden sinking feeling in her gut as Alistair smiled down at her, "Besides, I seem to remember that I owe that someone an engagement present."  
A faint ripple of laughter went through the crowd as she blushed and said in exasperation, "Alistair."  
"So, that being said, I am granting all the titles, lands and rights of the Arling of Denerim to Marlana Cousland. I hope this satisfies your desire for justice. And it is fitting since you've been acting more as the city's Arlessa than Kendells had been doing."  
She blinked in surprise at the sudden shouts of approval, approval from both noble and commoner. Though she was glad they drowned out whatever objections Kendells was making to the situation. Alistair gestured to some of the nearby guards, who hauled away the three prisoners. Braden and Jonaley only required a guard each while it took four to bodily haul the thrashing, snarling and spitting Kendells. The King watched the prisoners being hauled away with an angry, but satisfied expression. Then he returned to the audience, "Anyone else? No? Good. Everyone is dismissed. Kylon, if you would be so good as to escort these ladies back home."  
He held out his hand to Lana, "And if you would join me, m'dear?"  
Stunned at the day's events, and even more so at suddenly finding herself the Arlessa of Denerim of all things, she mutely walked up to him, placed her hand in his and the two left for their private chambers to talk.  
No little stunned herself, Anora stared after the two, still not quite sure what had happened. Once again Marlana had managed to turn what should have been a moment of glory for the former queen into something else entirely. Yet... She couldn't blame the younger woman for what she did this time. In truth, Anora didn't know just how depraved Kendells had become, and from the testimony given by Kallian, supplemented by the other elven women when they gathered the courage to speak, it had been an ongoing situation when Cailan had still been alive.  
Which meant that his activities had gone on right under her nose. Which was incredibly galling. She couldn't keep a close eye on the entire country, but she thought she had a good idea of what was happening in Denerim. Finding out she was wrong about that was... troubling.  
Lost in her thoughts, the newly vested Tyrna began to slowly make her way down to the doors to leave the place that had once been her home. She didn't notice Teagan's approach until he gently asked, "Your Grace, is all well?"  
She started slightly, but recovered quickly, "I'm fine, why do you ask?"  
"You seemed... preoccupied."  
She smiled wryly, "I believe I have cause to be so. And you used to call me by name when I was your Queen, why so formal now?"  
"Indeed, I'm sure there is a great deal to occupy you. As for formality, it seemed fitting, considering."  
She waved it off, "We've known each other a long time, Teagan, despite what might have happened, I hold no malice for you."  
Teagan inclined his head, "Indeed, then I hope you're aware that Alistair didn't intend any disrespect?"  
One golden brow arched up, "Are you that confident that you can speak for your King without his knowledge?"  
"Yes."  
Such a simple word, and the tone held that simple confidence. Anora paused to think that over as a thought that had been forming in the back of her mind for the past couple of months finally crystallized. For a moment she was silent, then said cautiously, "Would you tell him something for me then?"  
"I will try, but I cannot make any promises as to his response."  
"Of course not and I don't expect one", she said briskly, "But tell him, that he may look like his father, and...his brother."  
She hated that her voice broke at the mention of Cailan. But she couldn't help it, for all his faults, Cailan had a big heart and had cared for her in his way, just as she had cared for him in her way. Even if Cailan had been less than faithful on occasion. She mentally braced herself, "He may even have that dreadful Theiren humor, and their charm."  
One corner of Teagan's mouth twitched upwards at that, he knew that Maric's and Cailan's humor had often been difficult for the serious woman, and that she had learned to at least deal with it, even if she didn't appreciate it. When he didn't say anything, she continued, "There is a great deal of bad blood between us, but I want you tell him that he may look and sound like them, but he's clearly not them."  
Finally the Chancellor asked, "What makes you say that?"  
"I don't remember Maric standing before the throne to tell all gathered before him that a noble is held accountable the same way a commoner would be. Neither would Cailan have stood so firmly for something he believed in. At least not so publicly. It will be interesting to work with him in the future."  
"I will tell him everything you told me. But if I may ask, why the sudden change in heart towards him?"  
"I've had two months to think and reflect over what has happened since word of the Blight was first brought by Duncan. How things could have been different had I acted differently. If certain other people had acted differently. I will not forget that those who should have let me die when the Archdemon invaded Denerim, didn't. I was a threat to Alistair's rule and Marlana saw me as another traitor, yet they let me live."  
"Perhaps there is a better place to have this conversation?"  
She shook her head, "No need, I want this to be public so that it is known I have no desire to cause the current King grief. Not even the future Queen who is now Denerim's Arlessa."  
The corners of her mouth twitched in sudden humor, it would be interesting indeed to see what these two would do.  
Sea blue eyes studied her thoughtfully, "I'm sure they'll both be pleased to know that."  
Another upward twitch, perhaps that horrible sense of humor had rubbed off on her after all. Or maybe it was the fact she was given a new chance at life as she said dryly, "Indeed."  
There was another brief hesitation before she requested, "And please, see if Marlana is willing to meet with me. There are things I want to speak with her privately about."  
"Ah, now there I'm not sure I can talk Alistair around that. He is rather protective of her. Just as she's protective of him."  
Involuntarily, Anora's hand fluttered to her throat where Alistair had wrapped a single hand around it in the attempt to either break it or strangle her slowly. She cleared her throat a little nervously as her hand dropped back down to her side, "Yes, I'm aware of that. And I would hate to see what she does if she feels she needs to protect him. But all I can do is ask."  
"I will tell them everything."  
"Thank you." She cast a quick look up at the dark windows and was surprised to see that night had fallen sometime during the proceedings, "Have a good evening, Teagan."  
He bowed, "And you as well. Teyrna."  
This time a true smile, if small, graced her expression as she left the chamber, her guards falling respectfully about her. Leaving Teagan to look after with a thoughtful, if slightly concerned, expression.


	48. Shadows of the Past

"I'm sorry, Alistair."  
He paused in removing the pauldrons of his armor at Lana's apology. Baffled he looked at her over his shoulder through the space between the lifted armor piece and his shoulder. He really didn't like that look in her eyes and guessed he was right to worry about how quiet she was when they were walking back to the royal suite. Wondering what was going through that complicated mind, he finished removing the shoulder pieces of his armor and asked in confusion, "Whatever for?"  
Not meeting his eyes, she busied herself with undoing the side buckles of his armor, even though he didn't need the help, "For not keeping my promise to stay out of trouble."  
It'd been a very long, busy and stressful day, so it took Alistair a few moments to remember what in the Black City she was talking about. Annoyed, he gently removed her hands from the buckles and began to briskly undo them as he dryly said, "I seem to remember that you promised to try to stay out of trouble."  
Getting the message, she began to work on getting out of her own armor, which was a far simpler and easier task than Alistair's, "I really did mean the first version of that promise."  
There was silence for a moment, then he made an exasperated sound, "You think I don't know that? But I know you, love, and I know that you can't avoid trouble. And it's not like you went out looking for it, or at least not trouble of that nature. But as I've said before, you're a magnet for it. So don't go apologizing for something you can't help."  
Since she was in the middle of pulling a tunic over her head, she didn't say anything right away. Once pulled down enough so that she wouldn't be muffled, Lana sighed, "I suppose you're right, still I didn't mean to cause such a public disturbance for you at your audience, but at that moment I was so... Angry is too small a word and furious doesn't cover it either. What he did to those women..."  
Even though he still hadn't gotten his lower armor off yet, Alistair turned and placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to set his forehead against hers and said quietly, "I know, sweetheart, I know. I was just as angry after Fergus showed up this morning and gave me the information about that girl. So he'll pay for what he's done, that I swear."  
Lana leaned in against him and sighed again, "I know, just...why did you give me Denerim? It's not like I don't have my hands full enough already."  
With a quiet laugh, he straightened up, "Lana, apparently it didn't occur to you that most of what you've been doing has involved Denerim? Now you can do what you need to without worrying about how that ass is going to react."  
Lana blinked at him as she thought that over. He grinned slightly at her expression as he went back to changing out of his armor and into more comfortable clothing. She too finished changing before slowly saying, "I suppose you do have a point, I've been able to delegate most of the work for the Wardens to the others." She grimaced, "Though I'm going to have to make a visit to Vigil's Keep sometime in the near future, make sure everything really is going all right. At least Gerard has Varel to help things stay running."  
Alistair was glad his back was to her so he could grin at the fact he was able to distract her again. Then the grin broadened, "I wish you could have seen the look on Anora's face when you came charging in. It was priceless."  
"I can well imagine", came the dry response. Finished dressing he turned around to study her and didn't like the shadows darkening her gaze from where she was perched on a chest full of random odds and ends that accumulated in any armory, including the small, private one they used.  
He frowned, "It's not the staying out of trouble that's really bothering you, is it?"  
When she squirmed and looked away, he knew he was right. She ran her fingers through her hair, "I'm trying to overcome my momentary cowardice."  
"Um, what?" He mind reeled at the comment. She was many things, a coward wasn't one of them. He knew she was capable of being afraid, Lana just didn't let it stop her from what she needed to do. Like biddable, he didn't think she even knew what the word meant, let alone apply it to herself.  
She slunk down a bit, "I'm trying to work up my nerve at the fact I'll have to visit that...place tomorrow."  
Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. Maker, but he was stupid sometimes. "It doesn't have to be tomorrow, you know. Give it a few days, or even a week."  
"We don't know if he has anyone imprisoned there. And I'm not entirely sure his guards can be trusted."  
Now that he was really paying attention, he could see that it was more than that. "Please tell me it's not that you think you won't make a good Arlessa. After all, look at everything I learned from you."  
The slightly guilty look said exactly what he was grumbling at her about, but she managed a faint grin, "Yes and look where that got you?"  
"Since no one has tried to lynch me yet, I'd say I'm doing pretty good", he grinned back at her. Then he sobered, "There's something else bothering you about it."  
She combed her fingers over the end of the tail her hair was gathered up in, a habit he knew when she was nervous about asking for something. He just arched a brow at her to give a gentle nudge. Another quiet grumble to herself before said, "I need your professional opinion as a templar."  
Not expecting that particular request, he blinked, "You know you don't have to ask that, but what in particular did you need that on? I hope its not you, I'd let you know if there were...issues. Or is there more to your nightmares than you're telling me?"  
"Oh, no, not about the nightmares. It's the estate that I need you to look at."  
Alistair frowned a little at the evasiveness about the nightmares, but that was a problem for another time, like the few times she thrashed awake and scared the crap out of him in the process. "What about the estate?"  
"You know I'm not a mage or templar, but I've gotten...sensitive to odd things." She smiled weakly at his snort to her understatement, then the smile faded as she said,"I think the Veil is, well, not torn exactly. But very thin. Not like the Tower or the Brecilian Forest, but what we felt at Haven."  
Remembering just how creepy the small town was, and that was before they found out about the human sacrifices being done, Alistair involuntarily shivered. Creepy didn't even come close to the atmosphere of the place, but that was the only one he'd allow himself to think as a description. He wasn't even sure what to describe a child with a finger bone as a good luck charm. It was the boy who inadvertently caused them to find out about said human sacrifices. And he couldn't say that the Veil was torn there, just thin as she said. "So you want me to see if it's just thin or we might be facing an invasion of angry trees or furniture?"  
His wry tone elicited another faint smile, "Something like that, yes."  
He shrugged, "Then I'll go with you there tomorrow. I was planning going there anyway at some point and not just because of what happened to you there. Just to take a walk-through with the new Arlessa. It's a King thing, you know how it is."  
As usual he managed to find a way to make her laugh and she did feel better for it. Once she caught her breath, she walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and warmly said, "I love you."  
He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her hair, "And I, you." Alistair finally allowed himself the one question he'd been wanting to ask, but had very stoically kept from asking until that moment, "You're sure you're all right?"  
"Positive. Vaughan hits like an actual little girl. The bruising should fade in a few days."  
They both laughed a little, remembering the times people sneered down at Lana as a "little girl" and should let the "adults" handle things. Her companions were amused at how she dealt with such things, but gave her space. Just in case.  
Still concerned, Alistair pulled back a bit to tilt her face so he could get a good look and she smiled a little, "See? I'm fine."  
Fine wasn't the word he'd use for the mottled bruising on her cheek, but she didn't seem in distress so he wasn't going to push her about it. Yet. Her smile turned to something a little evil, "I can't say the same for Vaughan though. In the short time he has left, he might start thinking with the head on his shoulders."  
Alistair sputtered at the mental image, then laughed, "What'd you do? I know you said you disabled him, but not how."  
"A good swift knee between the legs. There was a rather satisfying crunching sound."  
Despite who got kneed, Alistair couldn't help the sympathetic wince. He'd gotten hit in the groin a few times in the past, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to be in clothing and get kneed by someone wearing armor with Lana's strength. Granted there were quite a few people who were stronger, but there was a good bit of hidden strength in that deceptively slender body. Not to mention how very precise her strikes could be.  
"Um, sorry about that last comment."  
He chuckled a little, "It's okay, sweetheart. He deserved much worse. And we probably should get going, there's things we need to discuss with Teagan and your brother."  
"I'm sure, but before we do, there's something I need to talk with you in private. And this seems as good a place as any."  
Leaning against a wall opposite her, he crossed his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Why do I suddenly have an awful sinking feeling?"  
"Alistair." He grinned at the annoyed tone, then gestured for her to go on. She ran her fingers through the tail end of her hair again as she said, "We need eyes and ears. Preferably in the major parts of the country, but we need to at least start in Denerim. If we did, I might have been able to avoid today's ugliness."  
"Eyes and -", he started to ask then frowned as he suddenly understood what she saying. "Spies. Really?"  
"I'm not saying using bards the way they do in Orlais. But if I had some trusted people keeping an ear out for trouble, I would've gotten more warning about Vaughan and adjusted accordingly."  
He rubbed his forehead as the headache from earlier started to make its unpleasant return, "You do have a point. What about the ones you used during the Blight?"  
"Unfortunately, the ones I could trust haven't been seen since the Battle of Denerim, the rest...they're only good for certain types of information."  
"Right. I'm guessing you have someone in mind already?" She nodded cautiously, he rubbed his chin in an overly dramatic gesture of a thinking pose. "I'm guessing one of them is that rather feisty elven woman, Kallian?"  
She nodded again. He smiled a little, "Why am I not surprised? All right, set up your little spy-ring. I'm sure most rulers have something like that."  
It was her turn to raise a pale brow, "Thank you."  
"You expected me to argue with you about something like that?"  
"Well, a little."  
"As it happens, I actually do agree with the need. Like you said, today might have been different had we gotten some sort of notice about Vaughan's whereabouts." He scowled, "Or completely prevented if we had someone who could have told us about his activities long before this."  
Alistair gave her a slightly sly look, "Besides, I happened to have spent almost a year and a half with a rather devious minded woman who could find out all sorts of interesting information that kept us alive. Why would I want to change something works?"  
That earned him a grin, but there was still that thoughtful gleam in those eyes. He eyed her warily, "There's something else on your mind, isn't there?"  
There was a brief hesitation before she quietly explained the other idea that had been stewing in her mind. Not believing what she said, he yelled, "You want to do what?"  
Lana huffed, "You heard me."  
"I think there's something wrong with my hearing."  
Annoyed, she crossed her arms and scowled at him, he didn't have to act the way he did. He rubbed his forehead, "All right, all right. I heard you. I can't believe... Well, let me take that back. I can believe you'd think of something like this. Just, let me think it over, okay?"  
Mollified, she relaxed and nodded, "Of course, take as much time as you want."  
He eyed her thoughtfully, then reached out to hug her again, "It's my turn to apologize for my reaction. I know you mean well, but some things are hard to unlearn."  
She hugged him back, "I know, love. And I probably shouldn't have sprung that on you the way I did."  
"Well, this is you we're talking about. I shouldn't be surprised anymore", he smirked at her. "But I promise I will think about it."  
"That's all I can ask for. Now you said that there was something you needed to talk with me about?"  
The grim look that settled on his face worried her, "Before I do, let's go find Teagan and your brother. Teagan can run everything by you, and your brother should know about this as one of my advisers as well as Teyrn of Highever."  
She ran her fingers down the tail end of her hair, "Shouldn't you inform Anora then?"  
"Ugh, you would remind me... Well, we can arrange for a formal meeting."  
Lana snickered a little at the disgust, "All right, let's get going then. I'm sure there's probably all sorts of rumors going on now about how long we've spent in here."  
He smirked, "And that's a bad thing how?"  
"You're incorrigible, you know that, right?" She asked laughing as they headed towards the door.  
Grinning, he replied, "I know, so why do you incorrige me?"  
The only response that earned was an amused snort. As the two began their search for Alistair's Chancellor, fully aware they could have a servant go find him, but wanting to do something on their own, there were smiles in their wake. Seeing how upset both of them were after the audience, the staff had left the two alone, but those who served them the most had been quietly debating if it was safe to at least bring drinks and snacks. It was rare to see neither of them having any kind of appetite, so they had been somewhat worried.  
Particularly the surprisingly maternal Agatha, the cook who had once served Eamon's estate, a woman her previous associates would describe as anything but maternal. When he left Denerim, he had closed up his estate and let go of the staff. Since there was a shortage of well trained staff in the city after the battle with the archdemon and its horde, the servants had been quickly snapped up. Since she was used to feeding Warden appetites, and the royal pair no less, the head cook of the palace eagerly hired her.  
Since the Lady Marlana still had the tendency to wander into Agatha's kitchen for the odd cooking lesson, a habit the young woman had started while she was at the Arl's estate, the cook found she wasn't immune to the Lady's charming ways.  
Besides, her detractors never appreciated her hard work. Which the Lady and His Majesty certainly did.  
So seeing the two of them smiling faintly and joking a little was a relief and word was quietly spread that they seemed to be doing better. Even if there was some quiet speculation about what the two of them had been up to.  
Agatha quickly made sure that a "small snack" was sent to her favored charges and the men they were talking with. It required two servers to deliver.  
Over an hour later after the "snack" had been devoured by the four, there were no signs of smiles or laughter. Her temples throbbing, Lana dropped her head into her hands. She'd guessed that things were likely to be tight in the coming winter, but didn't realize just how tight. In the hopes of breaking the tension, she said with a wan smile, "And here Leliana didn't understand why I didn't want a lavish reception with a lot of stupidly expensive delicacies."  
Thinking that over, she said a bit more hopefully, "Maybe we can get away with a private ceremony after all. For the good of the treasury and all that."  
Alistair perked up at the thought while Teagan and Fergus stared at them. The two men exchanged glances and quiet mutters that the other two ignored, it wasn't the first time one of them had given a token protest over how public their wedding had to be. Fergus grimaced, clearly losing the brief debate and he slowly spoke, carefully choosing his words. She never hurt him, at least deliberately, but he didn't want to risk her getting back at him creatively. Again.  
"Marlana, my dear sister, you know full well why it can't be private."  
"I know", she said with a small smile, "But I figured it couldn't hurt to ask."  
"Damn, foiled again", Alistair quipped. There was a faint chuckling in the room that ended quickly. Fergus propped his chin in his hand and brooded over the mug of ale before him, "I'll ask the Cabreras if they have any contacts with grain merchants."  
Both Teagan and Alistair looked confused at Fergus's sudden quietness and the distress that darkened Lana's eyes. "Fergus", she began as he stood up. He shook his head when she flowed to her feet to go to him. Softly he asked, "Is there anything else?"  
Not sure of what was going on, Alistair just as quietly said, "Not on my part."  
Teagan silently shook his head. Fergus nodded sharply, "Well then. I'm going to call it an evening." He ruffled Lana's hair and gave her a watery smile, "I'll be all right, little sister. But I need some time alone."  
She watched him walk away, torn over disregarding his wishes or abiding by them. Alistair asked quietly, "What is it, Lana?"  
To his distress he saw a hint of tears in her eyes, "Orianna's family."  
Knowing there wasn't anything he could say, he got up and gently wrapped his arms around her. Teagan cleared his throat awkwardly, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but there is one final thing before I leave you to enjoy the rest of the evening."  
Stifling his annoyance, Alistair tiredly asked, "And that is?"  
"Anora asked me to tell you something."  
Under other circumstances the fact that their expressions were almost identical would have been amusing. However the identical looks of angry disgust were anything but amusing considering how dangerous the two of them were. Confident that neither would hurt him, or so Teagan told himself, he told them of the brief conversation he had with Anora and the message she wanted them to know. As well as the request she had for Marlana.  
The hard, flat look in Alistair's eyes was particularly frightening by the time he was done. Or maybe it was the way he clenched his jaw. Lana placed her hand on Alistair's arm to calm him, and tiredly said, "I'll think about it."  
Warily eying Alistair, Teagan nodded and hastily said, "I'll bid the two of you a good night."  
The Chancellor left the room with an almost unseemly haste. After staring in bemusement in Teagan's wake, Lana shook her head slightly as she turned to Alistair. Who looked fit to burst. Before he could erupt, she placed the tips of her fingers on his lips, "Please Alistair, let me say something first."  
He huffed a bit, then nodded, scooped her up and sat down on the chair. Once they were settled down, with her head on his shoulder, she quietly said, "I do need to talk to her."  
She eyed him, "And clenching your teeth so tightly like that isn't good for them, you might crack one."  
"I seriously can't believe you want to talk to her. Not after what she did to you."  
Sighing, she leaned her head on his shoulder as he held her closer to him, "I need to talk to her if only because I did slaughter her father in front of her."  
"Lana..."  
"Despite what he did, what she did and didn't do, they were still family. If I had thought about it, I would've sent her out of the room before I executed Loghain."  
Even though he had serious doubts about Anora's capacity for affection for anyone but herself, he didn't say anything. He knew just how sensitive Lana was to things involving family, especially parents after what happened to her family. And the fact that it hurt Lana somewhat when she ended up killing another friend of her parents, even if he helped Howe in his betrayal of the Couslands.  
She stirred slightly in his embrace as she lifted her head to look at him. The fierce look in her eyes and the steel in her voice lifted his heart as she said, "I swear, if she tries to pull another of her games you'll have to find another Teyrn of Gwaren because I'll destroy her the way I destroyed Loghain."  
He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. Instead, he kissed her, which she returned with that fierce sweetness he loved.  
When they separated, she murmured, "Let's go to bed then?"  
He grinned, "An excellent idea, m'dear."  
When morning arrived, Lana thought it was far too bright and cheerful for what she had to face that day. That was part of the reason she didn't want to get out of bed, the other part was the fact Alistair was wrapped around her as she was wrapped around him. Or as much as she could considering the difference in size. Unfortunately duty called and it was completely against her nature to turn away from that. Even the most unpleasant ones.  
A soft breath exhaled, not quite a sigh as she started to wriggle around to get Alistair up. One golden brown eye opened a crack, then closed as he groaned, "It's just barely dawn."  
She lightly tickled his ribs, "It's past dawn, lazybones."  
"Hmph."  
"Alistair."  
"All right, all right, I'm awake." He reluctantly let her go, rolling onto his back yawning and stretching. Seeing the pot with two mugs set nearby with steam rising out of the spout, Lana silently blessed Dee as she slid out of the bed. The maid had quietly taken over tending both of them in her cheerful way when it became obvious that Alistair wasn't going to take on an attendant of any sort. She was still torn over gratitude and annoyance that Teagan had someone assigned to see to her needs, as if she were a hothouse flower that many noblewomen tended to be. Thankfully Dee had cheerfully adapted to her mistress's quirks, and aside from the small bouts of snobbery, was still a pleasure to work with.  
Pouring the tea, Lana wondered if Alistair realized that her lady's maid was seeing to his care as well as hers. She used that internal amusement to distract herself from what she had to do that day. Alistair managed to pry open one eye when he heard the tea being poured and smiled sleepily at the expression on her face, "Want to tell me what's so funny?"  
Handing Alistair his tea as he dramatically sat up in bed, the smile faded a bit as she considered it, "Well, it's somewhat at your expense."  
He beamed, "Even better."  
She shrugged a little and told him. He grinned, "That suddenly explains a few things."  
Not expecting that reaction, she blinked at him. He took a sip from his mug, "I had a note the other day that was all very polite, but basically said that it was all right for me to wear new socks each day since there's plenty of them."  
Lana wasn't sure which was more appalling, the fact Dee had to leave a note like that because Alistair was still awful about the sock thing or that Dee had left such a note. Knowing the maid, she knew that the note would've been very polite and respectful as Alistair said, but still...  
Tawny eyes alight with amusement, and clearly far more awake than he initially let on, Alistair smirked at her expression. "Oh, if you could only see that look on your face, love."  
She wrinkled her nose at him, "You're lucky I love you."  
"Despite my horrible socks?"  
"Not despite, because as disgusting as that habit of yours is, it's still a part of you."  
Another quick grin, then he carefully pulled her next to him as they finished their first cup of tea. This was one of the things that made being King bearable, having the first part of the morning sharing tea and jokes with Lana before getting to work. He supposed they could have had that if they'd let Anora keep the throne and went to being ordinary Grey Wardens, but he didn't think that would have happened. While no one had said so, he'd gotten the impression that if he weren't King when Euphrobia showed up, they would've gotten hauled off to Weishaupt and probably not be allowed to leave again. Or even see each other.  
Feeling her intent gaze on him, he smiled and lightly kissed her, "Don't mind me. Just woolgathering."  
"Uh huh." Even though she eyed him dubiously when he remained silent, she didn't say anything else. He smiled again as this time she stretched up to kiss him then sighed, "I guess it's time we started getting ready."  
Alistair reluctantly finished his tea then got out of bed to get ready for another long day.  
The day proved to be yet another unbearably hot one, not to mention exceedingly humid and laden with flying, biting insects. Fortunately, his armor had the same enchantments for comfort that Lana's did, even if it didn't do anything about the pests. At least there was an effective salve that kept the bugs away, even if it had a slightly odd odor. Seeing the guards silently dealing with the heat made him mentally frown and wonder if there was something that could be done. They couldn't afford to enchant the armor of all the guards, but maybe something else could be worked out.  
Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't realize how withdrawn Lana was until they arrived at the estate and she was disturbingly silent. Anyone else would have thought her to just be lost in her thoughts, but he knew her and didn't like that bruised look in her eyes. And mentally kicked himself for not running his idea by her first, forgetting everything that happened at the place. But it was too late for such things, instead he extended his arm to her, and smilingly asked, "Would m'lady be so kind as to accept my offer to escort her?"  
Her lips twitched and the bruised look faded as a hint of amusement lit up her eyes as she slid her arm around his. Their guards feel silently into place, giving them the illusion of some privacy as they began their tour of the estate by walking the grounds.  
Before they could get very far they were greeted by one of the city guard, "Your Majesty, My Lady. Cap'n sends his regards. Wants you to know that we've secured the estate and the few guards that were here are a being held pending your decision as what to do with them."  
The nervous way the guard held himself made her pause and study him. He tried not to fidget, but kept casting worried looks over his shoulder. As gently as she could, she asked, "What's wrong."  
He shifted uncomfortably, "Forgive me, my lady, but...the place just isn't right."  
"I hope there aren't any demons running amok."  
The distressed look made Alistair wince and Lana rub her forehead, "Please tell me that isn't the case."  
"Well, no one's seen anything exactly..."  
"But?" She prompted gently.  
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot before saying, "The place is spooky."  
"I see, thank you for your report."  
The guard tried, and failed, at hiding his relief at her dismissal, "Good day, Sire. My Lady."  
After hastily saluting he quickly walked off leaving Lana staring in his wake. She musingly asked, "Were we ever that young?"  
She ignored the quiet coughs and snorts from the escorts behind them. Alistair raised an eyebrow, "Love, I'm pretty sure he's older than you. I'm also pretty sure he hasn't been in any situation close to the ones we've seen."  
Resisting the urge to run her fingers through her hair, she mumbled, "I suppose you're right about that."  
Holding his hand out to her, he grinned a bit, "Besides, I don't think he has your constitutional fortitude."  
Placing her hand in his, she eyed him thoughtfully, but decided that silence was the best answer. They continued onto the grounds of the estate, their guardians trailing ahead and behind. When they reached the main entrance to the building, the group paused as they tried to figure out if it was usable or not.  
Surveying the great doors of the front entrance, an odd glint entered Lana's eyes, "Those workmen weren't afraid to show their displeasure."  
At first glance it seemed as if the damage had been caused by the darkspawn, until Alistair got a closer look. Then he saw that it was actually rather crude, yet graphic, graffiti from angry sentient beings, not the mindless monsters that had invaded only a few months before. Most of the "artwork" featured unpleasant things done to Howe, many of them Howe doing the acts to himself. "Do I want to know?"  
"When we got here that day, there was a mob of angry craftsmen and traders. Howe had done a lot of renovation to the estate and didn't pay for the work done. They made an excellent distraction."  
He shook his head in silent admiration as they continued on their way to an alternative entrance since the main one was clearly out of use. But something was nagging at him about the place, and it wasn't just Anora's trap that had caught Lana. It finally came clear to him as they rounded the corner to the kitchen gardens. And the kennels. "Oh, hey, I do know this place."  
She looked up at him curiously, "Really?"  
Alistair nodded absently, "Yeah. Eamon brought me here once."  
"When? I know you didn't come here during that mess surrounding the Landsmeet."  
"Oh no, long before then. Shortly before I was sent to the monastery. That's when I first learned just how intelligent mabari are."  
Oogie made a please sound as Lana slanted a suspicious look at him. Realizing that he was going into dangerous territory, he made a vague gesture, "Oh, it's nothing now."  
"They put you into the kennels, didn't they?" There was that dangerous tone in her voice, the one that said Ishouldn'thaveletEamonlive without actually saying it. She didn't need to say it so explicitly now. But she had said a few times after restoring the man in that particular tone. When Alistair rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of something to say that wouldn't dig him any deeper, she nodded sharply and stomped off.  
"Ah, lad", Kendrick said from the side, "I thought you would've learned by now."  
"You'd think that, wouldn't you? I thought it was funny, but I keep forgetting how she reacts to things like that."  
When Kendrick didn't say anything, Alistair grumbled, "What? Not you too."  
The other man said quietly, "Yes, me too, but not to the degree the Commander does. The Couslands have the reputation they do for a reason, Alistair, and she's definitely true to her family. She just reacts so strongly because of what you mean to her."  
It was Alistair's turn to give Kendrick an odd look since until now the older man hadn't commented much on the relationship. The Warden gave him a bland look in return as he said, "Might want to catch up to the Lady before she chews someone up and spits them out."  
Kendrick had to bite back a smirk as Alistair muttered as he hurried after Lana, "What a charming image. And all too true."  
Then the nondescript man studied the grounds and sighed. He was no templar or mage, or even particularly sensitive to things, not even darkspawn, but the atmosphere of the place was oppressive. He couldn't imagine what Alistair might be picking up. And actually cringed a little at what was in Marlana's memories of the place, or what she might be sensing. It hadn't escaped his notice that she could detect Wardens and darkspawn at much farther distances than anyone else he'd known, even ones close to their Calling.  
He had a feeling that a bit of that sensitivity wasn't just from that ancient blood mage's concoction.  
Blowing out his breath as Kendrick banished the speculations from his mind for the moment, he hastened after Alistair where Delindro was already waiting for him, and wondered what had already gone wrong when he saw the worried look on the Antivan Warden's face. "Maker, what now?"  
"What set the Commander off?"  
"Alistair."  
Delindro thought about it for a long moment, "I'm not going in there."  
"C'mon, kid, it's not that bad."  
"Uh huh."  
Grinning, Kendrick clapped Delindro on the shoulder, "Let's go kid, we'll miss all the fun if we stay out here."  
"I don't seem to remember joining the Wardens for fun, Kendrick. I seem to remember that it was for the chance to kill much darkspawn, yes? I haven't seen a lot of darkspawn. Though I have seen a good number of people I'd like to feed to them."  
Snickering a little, Kendrick didn't let go of Delindro's shoulder, instead shoving the other Warden into the entrance to follow the path of the other two. Both paused in dismay at the rank odor of the place, as well as the filth coating the walls and floor, desperately trying not to gag from the stench. Not far ahead were Alistair and Lana, watched over by Edwards and Tammrel. While the two guards were being affected by the awful reek, the King and Commander stood frowning at the conditions of the place. That and the disturbing lack of other people.  
It was their lack of reaction that truly drove home to Kendrick of all that they'd been through. It wasn't that they were unaffected, it was that they'd been through so many horrors that they could deal with this calmly.  
While the stench didn't compare to the truly disgusting odors of Kinloch Hold when the demons and abominations were running around, or even worse the Deep Roads, it was still fairly thick. Lana found herself breathing as shallowly as possible, trying to ignore unpleasant memories that the smell of decomposing bodies brought up. Unfortunately, she'd come to know that smell all too well. She exchanged glances with Alistair, and while his expression was as grim as hers, he shook his head slightly.  
That was one less worry. No tears in the Veil meant that it wasn't likely they would have to face any demons. But it didn't rule it out, if it was thin enough at times, something could have slipped through. Glad she had gone armed and armored, she gazed at the hall that had led to her imprisonment at Fort Drakon. And tried not to let the fear overcome her. She hadn't let fear rule her during the Blight, she was damned if she was going to allow it to rule her now.  
But the part of her soul she dubbed her inner dragon had started stirring uneasily the moment she walked into the building. Which was more than a little troubling since that part of her only reacted to certain nightmares. Or maybe was the cause of them.  
Realizing that everyone was waiting on her, she banished those worrisome thoughts for the moment. She rolled her shoulders and said the first thing that came to mind about the situation. "Pity we don't have another templar, then I could break us up into two groups."  
Careful not to show it, she was amused at the varying levels of reaction she received at that suggestion. Edwards and his men looked most displeased at the thought of the group being broken up, the two Wardens looked resigned and Alistair... He had that gleam of excitement when there was the prospect of kicking some ass. She hadn't fully realized, until the day before with the brief skirmish with Vaughn, how stifled she was feeling. She couldn't imagine how Alistair must be feeling. But that was yet another problem to be dealt with at some point in the future.  
But she continued on, "Either way, this is too large of a group." The glare she gave when some started to protest quickly shut them up.  
"We have enough to help guard the working entrances and still give us backup. Alistair and I have experience with this. And while I would welcome the assistance of another templar, I'm not going to wait for someone to decide to get around to it."  
No one said anything, they couldn't. Not with the memory of what she found at the Circle and how her small band accomplished what over a dozen templars couldn't. No, not couldn't. Unwilling to do.  
As they all contemplated what was going to be done, Lana heard the scrape of boots in the room they'd passed through to enter the hall they were in. Her hands settled on the weapons at her waist, but didn't draw them. The others, including Alistair, drew their blades when she called out, "Who's there?"  
The door slowly opened and a man wearing plain, dark chain with a massive, two-handed warhammer at his back stood where he could easily be seen. Flanking him were two of Kylon's guards, one of them gruffly said, "He insisted on speaking with you, m'lady. Didn't want to wait."  
It took a moment for Marlana to recognize the man, since he'd filled out and gained some color in his skin. Not to mention losing the dreadful looking beard. Even more telling was the fact he wasn't raving.  
She commented in almost a little too mild of a tone, "Irminric. You're here rather sooner than expected." She turned to the guards, "You can go back to your posts, he can't cause any problems that can't be dealt with."  
Eager to be out of the horrible place, and even more importantly, not wanting to annoy the small woman before them, the guards saluted then left as weapons were sheathed. Irminric wisely remained where he was standing. Calmly he replied, "I've been in the city for some time now, I would have spoken with you yesterday, but you were otherwise occupied. When I heard you were here, I wished to help you with whatever might be here as well as face my own inner demons."  
Dark sapphire eyes studied him, while Alistair eyed him thoughtfully and their guards tried to pretend they didn't hear the conversation. "You still have your templar abilities?"  
"Yes, my lady."  
She nodded, "Good. Since you're here to help, we'll deal with this mess first, then discuss the other matter later. Kendrick, I want you to go with Irminric and half the guards to check the living quarters. Delindro, you and the rest of the guards are with Alistair and I."  
Technically neither Warden had to do this since it didn't involve darkspawn, but during the Blight the actions done by Alistair and Marlana had changed the scope of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Those that were helping rebuild the Order found a certain sense of satisfaction in doing more than just hunting darkspawn or dealing with the after affects of the Blight. Which was why the two Wardens had accompanied their brother and sister in the visit to the estate.  
Besides, as Kendrick had noted, Marlana had a tendency to get into interesting situations. A potentially haunted estate certainly had the potential to be very interesting.  
He eyed the former templar thoughtfully, Marlana had informed him that she had extended the offer of recruitment and hadn't hidden her concerns that the templar had truly kicked his lyrium addiction.  
As for why she was sending Kendrick with the supposedly former templar... It was the simple fact she knew Kendrick would test the man enough to make sure the potential recruit was worth actually taking on. For all that she didn't know the man as well as Alistair, she found he was a good judge of character and knew he could tell her if he thought Irminric would be suitable.  
There was also the matter that she preferred Alistair at her side, especially in this place.  
Kendrick eyed his Commander. He didn't like the too blank expression on her face, since it didn't fully mask the strained look in those too dark eyes. And he especially didn't like the grimness he saw in Alistair's bearing. So knowing they were upset, and that it would be a very bad idea to set them off, he asked carefully, "And where will your group go, Commander."  
"The dungeons to make sure there's no prisoners."  
Though Edwards didn't say anything, his jaw clenched as if he had physically restrain himself while Tammrel merely looked interested. The other guards stirred uneasily, but none spoke as well, just exchanging uneasy glances.  
It was Delindro who blurted out what was probably in everyone's thoughts, "Commander... are you insane? You want to go into the dungeon of a potentially demon infested building?"  
One silvery brow arched up delicately, then a small grin tugged on her mouth as Alistair stifled a snicker. "Yes, I probably am. I don't want to go down there, but someone has to check."  
No one could say anything to that, not with her history with the place. Except for perhaps one or two people. Irminric quietly suggested, "Then perhaps I should go down with you, my lady?"  
Alistair frowned slightly, he really didn't want to send her off alone. Except she wouldn't be, at least Delindro, Edwards and Tammrel had proven that if they thought she was in trouble, they'd haul her ass out. And he had to start thinking like a King. Responsible Kings didn't go haring off into potentially haunted dungeons. Even if it sounded like fun.  
He sighed, "It probably is a good idea, love. As Ser Irminric said, there are potential demons of all sorts to be dealt with, ones that would be best for certain people that aren't me to deal with. Besides, I suspect my guards really don't want me here at all, but staying up here would be a good compromise."  
There were a few quiet chuckles and Irminric bowed his head slightly, "Forgive me the correction, Your Majesty, but it's just Irminric. I'm no longer a knight."  
All laughter fled as golden brown eyes narrowed and darkened, "They stripped you of your knighthood?"  
Irminric shrugged uncomfortably, "I would prefer to discuss this another time, Your Majesty."  
"Of course. Lets get going before we waste any more of the day."  
He lightly rested a hand on Lana's shoulder and softly asked, "Are you sure you'll be okay?"  
She placed a hand over his and nodded silently, eyes still dark with strain, but determined to finish the course she started on. He gently squeezed her shoulder before walking off with Kendrick, tailed by his half of unhappy looking guards. Once he turned a corner and was out of her sight, she turned her attention to her escort and stifled the urge to sigh in annoyance.  
Edwards look grumpy, Delindro tried to seem indifferent, but couldn't quite conceal his disquiet while Tammrel shoved himself away from the wall impatient to get moving. The rest of the guards clearly didn't want to be there, but were going to stay true to their duty. She studied them thoughtfully, then gave them a bright smile, "Cheer up, this isn't as bad as anything Alistair and I went through during the Blight. Just follow my directions and you'll be fine."  
The were dubious looks exchanged, but no one said anything even as Irminric looked almost amused. Tammrel shoved away from the wall with a grunt, "'Bout time. My lady."  
With the reluctant guards trailing, she headed to one of the places that still featured in her nightmares. At her side was the templar who had suffered there as well, but not the templar she wanted to be there. She'd agreed to the change since she didn't want Alistair to see what she suspected was down there. On the other side was Oogie's reassuring presence.  
The filth in the "living" areas was just from lack of cleaning, not dead bodies. She had a feeling the stench was coming from the dungeons that hadn't been cleansed the way they should have been. Though he didn't say anything, or stop, she felt Irminic starting to shudder slightly. Very quietly she asked, "Are you sure you can do this?"  
He said tightly, "It is not a matter if I can, it is a matter that I must. I must do this thing, my lady, or else my fears will unman me."  
She couldn't answer him for a moment as she seethed at the sight of the sealed entrance she was going to use. It'd been the exit she'd used after killing Howe and would have been the fastest way in that she knew. Uneasy at having to repeat the steps that she took that led to her imprisonment at Fort Drakon, Marlana frowned a little and decided to distract herself with Irminric's question, "I don't think it would be quite that bad, Irminric. We all have fears, we don't necessarily have to go to the origins of those fears to overcome them. And there's some things we never can face, but just have to learn to deal with."  
A prime example was the fact she couldn't even bring herself the thought of contemplating going back to Highever for a visit. And there was talk of a national procession after the wedding that was scheduled to end at Highever for a long promised visit to Fergus. But that was a private horror for her to come to grips with on her own.  
"Perhaps, my lady, but since the opportunity presented itself, I thought it would be foolish not to take it."  
"Fair enough. I will admit, I was a little surprised when you showed up when you did. Though I'm grateful I didn't have to send to the Chantry for additional assistance."  
He nodded, and couldn't quite hide the flash of anger at the mention of the Chantry. When he spoke, it was still in that mild tone, "From what I've heard of what happened at the Circle, I can see why you would be... reluctant to seek their aid. Yet, are you not the one who also found the Sacred Ashes of Andraste?"  
Why did everyone always make it sound like she did all of this on her own? "I brought a small pinch of them out of the Temple, but I didn't find them. The discovery is solely Brother Genitivi's achievement and I wish more people would remember that."  
For some reason the man's startlement at her insistence of giving credit to Genitivi annoyed her. Maybe it was due to the fact that he wasn't the first to express that sentiment, and likely not the last. But if the man was to be one of her Wardens, she didn't want him to believe all the idiocy that springing up around her legend. Legend, she mentally snorted in disgust. It hadn't helped that Genitivi had brought up the fact that Marlana had been the first Warden in the history of the Order to survive killing an archdemon. That knowledge combined with all the other stories tended to make otherwise level headed people start acting oddly around her.  
Oddly meaning wide-eyed hero worship. And instead of her friends and companions trying to discourage the idiots, they encouraged them. Blighters, all of them.  
Including some of the guards that were supposed to be watching out for her at this very moment.  
With a soft growl, that was much as much for the guards as for Irminric, she said, "I am but one woman, what I did during the Blight I didn't do alone."  
Soft footfalls were the only sounds that broke the uncomfortable silence as they walked down the empty corridor. All about them were signs of neglect, but nothing that accounted for continued reek in the air. Finally Irminric stirred, "But you were the one gathered the Ashes that saved Arl Eamon's life."  
Another mistake that she made. She should have made Teagan stand up for himself to truly rule Redcliffe until the urgency of the Blight was resolved, but she'd given in to his desperate plea to save his brother. And of course there was the fact that Alistair was devastated at the situation, which probably had much more influence on her than Teagan's pleas. While she never asked, Marlana strongly suspected that Teagan did it to save himself from Isolde. The fact the woman was alive still grated on her nerves, but she shunted that thought away so she wouldn't get so angry about things she couldn't do anything about. Yet.  
Gritting her teeth, trying not to turn her ire on Irminric, she said, "I did."  
He hesitated, then asked what she had been expecting ever since he first mentioned the Ashes, "What was it like?"  
They were starting to enter the room that Howe used as his bedchamber, the entrance she had originally used in her hunt for the treacherous weasel. Since no one had mentioned any other ways, Marlana went by what she knew. And stared in a mixture of annoyance and relief at that entrance being sealed as well. She huffed in annoyance, Oogie plopped down on his butt as he made a sound of canine disbelief, and Delindro said, "Hm, well, that was not expected."  
Edwards didn't bother to hide his sigh of relief. She eyed the lot of them, then sighed herself before turning to a consternated Irminric, "We can discuss that when we go to see where Alistair's happy little bunch has gone off to."  
Of course she could still sense him, he was well within range, but that didn't tell he what he was doing. As they began to retrace their steps, Marlana spoke freely of the trials at the Temple from Irminric's prompting, but didn't speak much of the soul searing agony she'd gone through. Some things were too intensely personal to share with anyone who wasn't there. Or even those who had been there. When she saw the looks of amazement and wonder, Lana felt even more irritable, "Please, don't look at me like that. I didn't do it alone, without Alistair, Leliana and Wynne, I would never have gotten through the challenges alone."  
Almost too casually Irminric said, "Yet, you were the one who collected the Ashes."  
She shrugged, "Any of the others could have done it, but they decided I was the one who should do it."  
For a moment she hesitated, then decided to be callous. She did not at all like how they were watching her, even Delindro seemed to be picking up a bit of their awe. "Honestly, they were ashes like any other I've encountered. Yes, Eamon woke up when they were used, but it could have been any number of things finally taking effect."  
The slightly crushed looks made her feel guilty, but not for long. She had to do something to keep them from falling for that "Hero of Ferelden" idiocy. Irminric looked particularly lost. Quietly, she said, "I'm sorry, Irminric, I don't know what you were looking for, but I don't think it's here. You're still welcome to join the Wardens, but we aren't the heroes people think we are."  
He looked startled, "Oh no, my lady, that isn't it at all. I can understand why you react the way you do to the hero worship from what Alfstanna has told me. It's just..."  
"Just what?" She wondered where exactly Alistair and his group had wandered off to. She could sense him and Kendrick nearby, but they were wandering around somewhere with no clear sign of where they were in the warren of rooms.  
"I had hoped you could tell me how you kept your faith through such dark times."  
Marlana felt like an idiot for not picking up where his questions were going. As gently as she could, she said, "Irminric, I'm no priest, I kept going because it was my duty, not my faith in the Maker. More importantly, I couldn't let my friends down who believed in what I was trying to do."  
She sighed and rubbed her forehead, "If anything I probably spent half the Blight cursing the Maker."  
He nodded thoughtfully, still troubled, "Yes, I can see that. I just thought that having spent time with a former lay sister and former templar that..." He trailed off embarrassedly.  
"Ah, well. Leliana has some ideas that don't really fit in with Chantry doctrine and Alistair... He's probably the most non-religious, not-quite-templar you'll ever meet."  
"What do you mean by not-quite-templar?"  
"He never took the final vows."  
"So it's true then. We never had to use lyrium to be templars." At the anger, hurt and despair in his voice, Lana stopped and placed a hand on his arm, ignoring the startled whispers behind her. The others stopped a respectful distance away. She looked at them, "I'm not going to come to any harm here, why don't you go find where my betrothed has wandered off to?"  
Delindro wandered down the hall to keep an eye on them without overhearing their conversation. Edwards and Tammrel joined him as Oogie flopped down near her feet. The rest of the guards considered the situation for a brief moment before leaving to find the King. Shaking her head, Lana returned her attention to a bemused recruit.  
"It is true that he never took lyrium to fuel his abilities. But there's something you should remember."  
He looked at her miserably.  
"The Chantry is full of people. Ones who try to serve a higher calling, who do the best they can. But in the end, they're just people. Fallible mortals like the rest of us. They probably mean well, but they make mistakes. And sometimes when you have a lot of people who are set, things don't change quickly."  
Misery changed into bafflement and she gave him a wry smile, "Not very convincing, hm?"  
He smiled back, "I think that might actually work on someone else who doesn't know what we do. You're quite persuasive, my lady, you almost had me believing it."  
She shrugged, "I don't know the internal workings of the Chantry, and I don't want to know. My hands are full enough as it is without meddling with the Chantry."  
She told herself that her idea for a "Shadow Circle" outside of Chantry control wasn't meddling in Chantry affairs, but trying to save mages from the horrors of Kinloch Hold. He frowned, "I think they could use some outside perspective. You haven't been back to the Circle since stopping Uldred?"  
"Only the once when we went for help for Arl Eamon's son Connor and that was shortly after the rebellion."  
He nodded wearily, "It's as I thought."  
A chill went down her spine at his words, "What do you mean?"  
"The bodies may have been cleaned up, but the Veil is thin, and still torn in spots despite the repairs the mages have been doing. The children and younger apprentices are terrified of even thinking of magic. And even the templars are...skittish. It's why I was sent away from the Tower for my recovery. Some of the other templars were going through withdrawal... Were vulnerable. Well, what they turned into, it was a mercy that they were put down."  
Any concerns of hypocrisy vanished at the surge of anger she felt. It'd been over a year since her small band entered the Tower and did the templar's job for them. She didn't expect everything to be completely resolved, but it didn't sound much better than the condition she'd left it in. Though she supposed no decomposing corpses were an improvement over the estate. Not that they'd seen anything beyond general neglect, "No wonder Dagna has been so careful in her letters about the conditions of the Circle, just that she'd been learning a great deal."  
"A young dwarven woman that has an odd fascination for magic", she explained at his baffled look. He had every right to be confused since mages were extremely limited in contact with the outside world and it seemed odd that one would be allowed to write to the future Queen. She continued on, not wanting to get bogged down about how Dagna convinced her to send word to the Circle to accept the young woman as a student, "Let's go find Alistair. He's going to want to hear this. I think I have an idea where he is now."  
They found Alistair and Kendrick in the only section that seemed to be kept in any state of cleanliness, though cleanliness could only be used in the very loosest of terms. While there was none of the accumulated filth on the walls and floors from neglect, there were dirty dishes scattered amongst piles of discarded clothing. The odor came from spoiled food and unwashed bodies rather than something worse, but still extremely unpleasant. Surprised to see her so soon, but pleased at the same time, Alistair dropped an arm around Lana's shoulders when she walked up to him to hold her close. She settled in against him, drawing silent reassurance from his presence against the memories the place held for her.  
He quietly commented, "That was awfully quick. Nothing to be found, m'dear?"  
Torn between annoyance and relief, she told them what little they found. He shook his head, more than a little appalled, "Sealed? Do you think he had it sealed just so he didn't have to have it cleaned up?"  
"Considering how filthy this place is? Yes." She grumbled, "If it wouldn't upset people, I'd raze this place down in a controlled fire and rebuild."  
Alistair grinned, "That's one of the things I love about you, you aren't afraid to solve things by the generous application of fire."  
She slanted a narrow eyed look at him as the guards she sent to find Alistair finally appeared. Looking sheepish, they mumbled apologies before joining the rest of their fellows. Lana blew out her breath and pulled away from Alistair, "Honestly, I don't know if I can pay anyone enough to deal with this. And it's not healthy to leave the place the way it is, if only because of the vermin it would attract. Probably has and just haven't seen it."  
"True, it could use a good scrubbing. Well, maybe three or four." He looked around and shrugged, "I haven't found anything that indicates we have to worry about any impending demons. What about you, Irminric?"  
"No, Sire, I haven't sensed anything that could be a concern." A small smile tugged at his mouth, "Though I have to agree with Lady Marlana, I think the best thing is to cleanse the place with fire. It's the only way to be sure."  
Alistair laughed, "All right, I see how it is. Let's go before I give in to your sudden fascination with burning things. And before the stink of the place settles in our armor and clothing."  
They left the place in better spirits than when they arrived. Privately, Lana wondered just how she was going to get the people she needed to do the awful job of cleaning the place up. And just how to broach the matter of the Circle's state of distress with Alistair.  
Lana did decide that Irminric had what it took to be a Warden. Being willing to face his fears in such a way was the most important thing in her mind. They could beat any weapon skill necessary into him. The most immediate concern was who was going to take him to hunt darkspawn for the blood needed for his Joining.  
Technically she was the most junior member of the Order in Ferelden, even Delindro had been a Warden for a few years, but it wasn't practical for her to do so for several reasons.  
Lost in thought, but not so withdrawn that she didn't respond when spoken to, Lana rode away from the haunted shadows of the past with her eyes and mind set to the future.


	49. Whys and Wherefors

They gathered in silence under a gray sky filled with rain swollen clouds. Though storm fueled winds swept through the area, they did nothing to relieve the oppressive heat and humidity of the Denerim summer. Despite the uncomfortable conditions, they packed in tight to be able to clearly see the plain, dark stained wooden platform. Except there was a small bubble of space around a cluster of women of disparate races and backgrounds.  
Though there was some measure of commonality. They were all young women that were eye catching in some way. Or had been in some cases, before the scarring left by horrific beatings.  
It might have seemed odd to the casual on looker that humans and elves would willingly gather together in such a way, even lean on each other for support. But those who were there knew that they were there to witness the ending of the "man" who had done horrible things to them and still featured in their nightmares.  
There was a faint stir as guards approached and surrounded the platform before two figures appeared at the end away from the crowd and slowly made their way up front. Normally the King in his plate and his Silver Lady in her black and silver armor would have been cheered, instead they were given subdued greetings. He raised a hand in return while she inclined her head before they stepped to the side.  
More guards appeared, their heavy footsteps echoing loud in the eerie quiet. Clanking chains from the three prisoners in their center seemed much louder than normal. As was the foul language being spewed in an angry male voice. Another male voice, lighter in timber and volume, made ragged prayers to the Maker and Andraste for mercy. The third prisoner remained silent and stared brokenly down at his feet.  
Alistair watched them through narrowed eyes, his mouth a thin, compressed line, even more furious this morning with the three men than he had been a week before. He didn't have to look at Lana to know she was a silent shadow at his side, her face empty of all expression, but he could feel the hate radiating off of her through their bond.  
He thought he could feel the same hate radiating off the crowd. He could clearly see it in the eyes of the women that had come to see justice done. Along with their fear that it wouldn't happen.  
Trying to keep his own emotions under control, he stepped forward and raised his voice so he could be heard easily. Not that would be difficult given the unnatural lack of sound from so many people in the courtyard of Fort Drakon. "People of Denerim, you are gathered here today so that you can see that justice will be done as promised."  
Behind him, Vaughan started to snarl something before one of the guards silenced him.  
It was somewhat unnerving to have so many eyes staring at him in near perfect silence. But he could see the disbelief in their eyes that someone was making members of the nobility actually face the consequences of their actions. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such an expression. Usually it had been in relation to something Lana had done, and part of what made him agree to the insanity of being made King. After all, what justice had he seen when thought a base-born commoner?  
Shoving that thought to the side, he continued, "It is in my judgment, backed by templars here in Denerim, that these three... Individuals", he was damned if he was going to call them people or men. Men nor people, not even animals, did such horrible actions in his opinion. He remembered Lana's comment that monsters were the ones who did terrible things. To him that fit these three perfectly, "Acted under their own volition and not the influence of magic of any type."  
Finally some sound came from the audience in the form of a great sigh. They weren't going to be denied their revenge after all.  
He finished with, "May the Maker have mercy on their souls, for there is none here."  
Two guards came forward bearing a large wooden block between them. Like the platform it was stained dark. Behind them a large man garbed in the traditional black hood and clothing of an executioner bearing a massive axe over a brawny shoulder, it's blade shining despite the gloomy light of the day. It shone almost as brightly as the hair of the new Arlessa of Denerim, and seemed keen enough to wound the very air it was carried through.  
With soft grunts, the guards sat the block down then backed away.  
Jonaley was the first to be brought forward. He hadn't said anything during his week of incarceration, not even to the Revered Mother who had gone to visit the three men as part of the Chantry's inquiry to make sure they weren't under the influence of magic of any type. There'd been no word from his family at all. The guards gently forced him to his knees before the block for the executioner. The only action he took was to close his eyes as his cheek was laid against the coarse wood.  
The end came quick and clean for the silent noble with one smooth strike of the axe in the skilled hands of the executioner. Warm blood spilled down the block to the platform beneath, adding to the stains to both. Guards that had been waiting to the side quickly snatched up the head and body to clear the way for the next condemned.  
Next was Braden, who was snuffling and weeping as he was dragged forward by his guards, still pleading for mercy. He too had not been visited by his family, and his father had made sure the entire city knew that Braden was disowned and his name struck from the family records. Not surprisingly, Lord Everett wasn't in attendance. Rumors had it that he'd gone to some seedy dive to drink himself into oblivion.  
Like Jonaley, Braden's end was quick and clean, even though he was still weeping when the blow came. The cheeks of the head were still wet with tears when it was collected.  
Vaughan was hauled before the block, struggling against the four guards as he spit out vile curses. The small group of women leaned forward, their eyes glittering with a complicated mix of emotions, with hate and hope vying for dominance. Unlike the previous two, he was chained before the block and his head held down by a leather strap.  
Despite the precautions taken, his struggles didn't make his death quick or clean. It took two strikes to sever his neck, with his screams changing from hate filled spewing to high pitched shrieking of untold agony.  
Then it was over save for the smell of blood combined with the stench of voided bowels and bladders. There was another moment of silence, this time shocked at Vaughan's ignominious ending, then the cheering began.  
Overcome with the welter of emotions, the victims hugged one another with tears of relief making their eyes shine.  
It was at that moment the lowering clouds finally opened up to dump their load of rain upon the city. The sudden blast of cold rain came as a shock to overheated bodies and people quickly left in the search of dry shelter. Steam rose from where the cold precipitation came into contact with the still hot blood and offal spilled on the wooden platform . The King and Arlessa made their sedate way across the now slippery wood. It hadn't been that long since they'd be on the road in weather as bad, if not worse, so they found the rain almost pleasant after the stifling heat that had smothered the city. Their armor may have provided some relief, and the palace was a drafty, stone barn, but even they didn't wear armor all the time and so felt the discomfort.  
As they made their careful way down the back stairs, Lana let out a long exhalation, "Even though he never hurt me, I feel relieved that that particular piece of scum is no longer around to plague the city."  
Alistair cast a glance at her no longer bruised cheek. The thought still angered him that Vaughan had struck her, but even he had to acknowledge she'd suffered through much worse than a bruised cheek in the past. He weighed what he was going to say in his mind for a moment, then decided while maybe there could be a better time to tell her what he knew, he thought it an appropriate time to finally tell her, "Well, for one thing, you're much more empathetic to people than you like to let on."  
She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye and made a non-committal sound, "And the other thing?"  
He carefully sucked in a deep breath so he wouldn't get a lungful of water, the rain was getting worse, but they were almost to the horses, then blew it out, "After you went through at the Tower, I'm sure you can empathize even more."  
For a moment he regretted saying anything when he felt the jolt go through her and she pulled away from where she was partially leaning against him as they walked. Or how she didn't even look up at him as she dully asked, "You know then."  
"Not all the details, but enough to know the kind of slime you were given to, and what condition the bodies were found in." It hurt the way she pulled away even more, even through the bond they shared, he could feel her pull away, but he wasn't going to force anything. For something like this, it was best to just be there for Lana, she'd come back to him on her own. "Honestly, m'dear, I don't know how you could bear to stand me touching you."  
Lana came to an abrupt stop, turned and glared up at him through sodden bangs that had fallen out of the braid she wore her hair in, "You're nothing like those pigs. And they didn't get to go as far as they intended."  
Her lips curved up into that vicious, self-satisfied smile she got when she managed to do something unpleasant to someone she didn't like, or worse yet, had pissed her off. He tried to hide relief at seeing anger instead of that awful, emotional void that started to form even as she said, "I made them pay for what they'd done, not just to me, but anyone else they abused."  
Without thinking, he reached out to pull her back against him and quietly laughed, not bothering to hide his relief after all, "I'm sure you did."  
It was as she leaned against him and felt that fierceness that he remembered his silent promise to himself to not push her and regretted pulling her close. One bright blue eye glared up at him, "Whatever you're feeling guilty for, stop it. Or I'll kick your ass."  
A grin tugged at his mouth, "Yes, dear."  
The glare turned suspicious, "You've been talking to Fergus again."  
He arched a brow, "What does that have to do with anything?"  
"He used that same exactly tone on Orianna when she was annoyed at him for something." She gave him another narrow eyed look as she started to squelch her way to the waiting horses, "For that matter, my father used the exact same tone and words on my mother."  
It took a bit of effort, but he managed to keep from grinning as they finally reached their mounts and easily slung himself into the saddle, "I guess I'm learning from the best then."  
She shook her head at him, her mercurial mood shifting from annoyance to amusement. Laughter coloring his voice, he said, "Then let's get home to dry out. Even if you're going to head back out in this mess later."  
"Yes, dear", she deadpanned, before her laughter ruined the effect.  
With their escort staring at them in bemusement, the two chuckled most of the way back to the place they were already calling home.  
Once out of their armor and dried off, the two went their separate ways to see to their various duties, Lana back to muttering further imprecations on the now deceased, and unlamented, Vaughan Kendells. She was still trying to find a way to clean out the disgusting mess in the estate. Wondering if she was going to go through with her threat of "purification by fire", despite his very firm instance to the contrary, kept Alistair's mind off where she was going that afternoon until an unexpected visit distracted him even more.  
For her part, Lana thought the gloomy weather fit her mood perfectly for the meeting she was going to as she wrapped a rain cloak about her, before picking up a small satchel of papers, on her way to the small, discrete carriage that was going to be her transportation. Normally she preferred the freedom of riding, but with the weather as miserable as it was, she decided that staying dry was more important. Not just for her own comfort, but also for appearance. She didn't want to talk to Anora looking like a drowned rat.  
While she may have been going unarmored, dressed in her customary tunic and trousers tucked into soft, leather boots. A fact she didn't tell Alistair since she didn't want him even more upset, but she wasn't going unarmed. And certainly not alone, and knew that while Edwards and Tammrel would remain outside of the room she was going to be in, they wouldn't hesitate to barge in if they suspected any trouble. Not to mention having Oogie at her side. She hadn't brought him to the execution since he was clearly inclined to deal with Vaughan himself, not trusting the humans to do it right. After the debacle the execution had turned out to be, she supposed the hound had been right. He'd given her a look that seemed suspiciously like a smirk when he heard the morning's events discussed, but had otherwise remained quiet.  
Riding in the carriage felt foreign, even though she'd been in them before. With a start, she realized it'd been years since she had been in one. Before her world turned upside down, she rode a horse rather than in a carriage. Occasionally during the Blight, she ended up in Bodhan's wagon if she too injured to ride, but that was a very different thing from the mobile jewelry box she was currently in. The exterior may have been plain, but the interior was very clearly meant to serve royalty. Rather than let herself get worked up over speaking Anora, she let her mind wander to comparing the various means of transportation she'd used.  
Sensing her Wardens nearby broke her idle musings. She was nowhere near the compound, in fact she was almost at the Gnawed Noble, the location they'd mutually agreed to meet at. And it wasn't just Kendrick and Delindro, it was the full compliment of Wardens, except for Carlos who had taken Irminric to go hunt darkspawn for his Joining. When the carriage slowed to a stop, she could sense them scattered outside the building and wondered what was going on.  
When the door opened to reveal Edwards, she couldn't help the slight scowl that formed, "So who convinced the Wardens to converge en mass on the area in guard positions?"  
Edwards goggled at her, "They what?"  
"Every last one of them, except for Alistair, is surrounding the building in what I'm guessing are concealed positions. Delindro and the other archers are in sniping positions. What did you tell them to get them so riled up?"  
He was clearly boggled at the thought, "I swear to you, m'lady, no one in the Guard said anything to them. Maybe the King did?"  
He had a point, Alistair was definitely quite capable of asking them to do such a thing, but normally it was only the usual pair, not the entire bloody Denerim contingent. The guard eyed her when she didn't say anything as she got out of the carriage and said, "You do have to admit, there is a history between your Order and the Teyrna's family."  
"There is that, I suppose. Still, it seems...excessive."  
Edwards wisely didn't say a word.  
During the brief walk to the door, she scanned the area, but didn't see any of them. Which was just as well, because it wouldn't have looked good if she had one of her Wardens hauled out of the street to be addressed about whatever it was they thought they were up to. As it was, there were going to be Words when this was over and she could have a little chat with certain people.  
Marlana's already slightly foul mood became even worse when the servers, as well as the proprietor, fawned over her at her entrance. If it wouldn't have caused so many problems, she would have insisted on The Pearl for the location of the meeting. It may have been a brothel, but it did have have private parlors that were meant for talking, not sex, and more importantly Sanga knew what discretion meant. Trying not to be too grouchy, she gently waved the majority of the flock off and gestured for only one of the women to lead her to the room that was reserved at her request.  
Once out of earshot, she quietly asked, "Leliana, are you the reason why my Wardens are ready to descend on this place like it was a broodmother's lair?"  
Pale blue eyes widened in surprise, "No, I didn't think to ask. I just wanted you to have someone serving food and drink you know you can trust. I will have to remember to ask in the future since that is an excellent idea."  
Lana gave up at that point, ignoring the twinkle in the eyes of Tammrel and Edwards at the soft exchange. After her rescue from Fort Drakon, she'd resigned herself to her friends being overprotective. It seemed that they still were when it came to her dealing with Anora. But she was still annoyed at the Wardens. So quietly seething she was shown into the very comfortably appointed parlor that the inn had set to the side and Leliana made sure that everything was setup to Lana's satisfaction with amusement dancing in her eyes.  
The silver haired woman gritted her teeth as she sensed some of the Wardens changing position outside in relation to the room she was in, with Kendrick actually entering the building, but not approaching the room she was in. Since she hadn't bothered trying to hide her presence, she figured they were tracking her the way she was tracking them. For a brief moment she was tempted to mask her presence the way she could from darkspawn, but realized that was too petty. Not to mention upsetting a group of rather dangerous individuals, which was generally a bad idea.  
Rather than letting herself get worked up before a talk that was full of potential ugliness of its own, she turned her mind to the one thing that had been annoying her for the past week. What to do about the estate that she'd been saddled with. Alistair as King had very firmly quashed her desire to burn the place down and rebuild. She could hire people to clean the living quarters, but it was the sealed area that had her concerned. She had a feeling that Vaughan had the dungeon sealed up rather than go through the effort of disposing of the corpses. Which, at this point, had to be in a really horrid state that likely made the air poisonous to anyone who had to breathe it, even through a cloth.  
The breathing issue made her pause. She did know a way around that actually, and could burn anything down there. And wondered how she could bribe Shale into doing such a thing, if Lana could even find the golem. She'd wandered off somewhere with Wynn on some sort of project the two had come up with, but neither had been willing to say what they were up to.  
Welcoming the distraction, she mulled over what the elderly mage and the golem were getting into, until there was a thump at the door before it opened slightly. Tammrel poked his head through the crack, "She's coming."  
He pulled back after the terse warning. She shook her head slightly in amusement as she heard Edwards make a biting comment to his fellow guard, but was suitably composed when Anora arrived.  
A coldly polite mask fell over her features as she stood in greetings to the other woman. She inclined her head slightly, giving about as much as respect as she could bring herself to give the other, even though technically Anora outranked her. Marlana didn't really care about that, the day Anora actually saved the country and the world from another Blight would be the day she'd get some sort of deference from her, "Teyrna."  
Summer sky blue eyes studied her for a moment, then Anora nodded in return, "Arlessa."  
"If you'll have a seat? Someone will be here in a moment to take your order if there's any refreshments you'd like."  
Anora arched a delicate blond brow in curiosity, "You didn't have to do that."  
"It seemed presumptuous to order for you."  
There was a brief silence as Anora regarded Marlana again, "I... Thank you for the courtesy."  
"Of course."  
Leliana displayed her perfect sense of timing as returned to the room, still in her guise of maid. In a demure voice that carefully masked her accent, she took their orders. An awkward silence fell when she left to get the tea and snacks they'd ordered. Marlana studied Anora during the brief, awkward silence, surprised to see the former queen in a dark lavender dress that was more of the Ferelden style with fitted bodice with loose sleeves and flared skirts rather than the Orlesian version with its nearly immobilizing tight skirt. And that she wasn't in mourning colors was a bit of surprise.  
Rather than let the uncomfortable situation drag out, Marlana quietly asked, "Considering the circumstances, are you all right? Is there anything you need help with at your estate here in Denerim?"  
Anora gave her a considering look then dryly said, "Considering the rumors surrounding your new property, I should be asking you that."  
"You do have a point there", Marlana replied with a faint smile.  
"But to answer your question, as you said, considering the circumstances... I am well enough. Thank you."  
Marlana nodded then picked up the satchel she'd brought with her and pulled out a leather portfolio of documents. She gently placed it on the table in front of Anora, "These are copies of the reports we've gotten from Gwaren in the past few months. Since I wasn't sure what had been available to you."  
She looked at the portfolio without picking it up. "Why?"  
"You'll have to be more specific than that."  
"You don't seem to have Alistair's antagonism towards me, when, to most people you, have more right to it than he."  
"It's never a good idea to make such assumptions about me, Anora", Marlana said in icily and allowed just a small sliver of her hate show. "Because Ferelden needs Gwaren to be strong and it was suggested that you can make it so, that is why I am stifling my urge to end the Mac Tir line with you. "  
Anora didn't hide her shiver.  
There was a gentle rap at the door and it opened at Marlana's permission. Leliana, still in her guise as a serving girl, bustled in with hot water, tea and the snacks the two women had ordered. Her cheerful arrival helped break up the tense atmosphere, though she did give a concerned look at Marlana when Anora wasn't looking. She shrugged slightly in response, Leliana frowned slightly, but didn't otherwise do anything. Once satisfied that the two were taken care of, she left them alone after casting another concerned look at her friend.  
Silence fell again as they drank their tea and Marlana debated asking Anora the reason for the meeting, but decided to be patient. The woman would eventually get to the point and she already had not so subtly threatened her, despite Marlana's intentions not to. She was still struggling internally for a less hazardous conversational topic when Anora took it out of her hands.  
"I'm sure you've been wondering why I wanted to speak with you."  
After calmly taking a sip of her tea, the silver maned head nodded slightly, "The thought did cross my mind."  
"It is a thing that I have been wondering about for some time now that I knew Alistair wouldn't answer, but hoped that you might, Marlana."  
Wondering where Anora was going and curious despite herself, Marlana arched a brow, "I'm not sure how I can help, but go ahead and ask."  
"When you saved me from the darkspawn in Fort Drakon, Alistair said that he wouldn't give even me to the darkspawn..."  
For once not caring if she showed any discomfort to Anora, Marlana got to her feet and wandered the room before going to the window to stare out sightlessly at the street. In a voice empty of any emotion she asked, "Tell me, Anora, do you know what darkspawn do to women they capture?"  
"What do you mean? I thought they...well, ate, whomever they captured. If you can call it that."  
Marlana rubbed her forehead, this was going to be unpleasant in ways she hadn't anticipated. "Are you sure you want to know? It's not exactly a subject that one discusses over tea and cookies. Or really any time since a person had eaten anything in the last day or so."  
She could feel the other's frown even though she didn't turn around. This had been one of her own private horrors since Hespith and Laryn. The only ones who had understood were Leli and Wynn, because they'd been there.  
"Yes, Marlana, I do want to know."  
Maker, she thought as her gorge rose at the memories of Bownammar, particularly of the massive chamber with its fleshy floor that bled when walked upon. And it's...occupant. Still looking out the window, she sucked in her breath and let it out silently. "When it comes down to it, men are the lucky ones. They either die from the Taint or go insane then die. Women..."  
How did one convey that that sickening dread to one as sheltered as Anora? And Anora was sheltered compared to everything Marlana had gone through.  
"Women become broodmothers if they survive."  
"Broodmothers?"  
Now Marlana turned to face the other woman, not hiding the horror of the memory of the thing that had once been a dwarven woman. She still spoke in that emotionlessly clinical voice, "Imagine if you will, a massive monstrosity of gray, corrupted flesh. One that could easily fill half this building. You know its humanoid only because of the bald head that could have been human, elf or dwarf and the two stubby arms emerging from its torso. You know it's female only because of the row of breasts leaking some sort of vile mockery of mother's milk. It has no legs because it has no need to move, just needs enough space to birth its Tainted progeny."  
She left out the tentacles or the noxious spew it used as a weapon, not when seeing how pale Anora had become as she slowly set the teacup down on its saucer and pushed it away from her. She'd wanted the world to be aware of why the darkspawn continued to be a threat. As long as they were still able to capture even one woman, they could continue their wretched species.  
When Anora spoke, she had to give her credit for doing so in such a calm voice, "How do you know that it was once a woman?"  
"Because we were told by a dwarven woman who had been betrayed by her leader and was already undergoing the...change. She'd seen what had happened to another of her House that was turned into the broodmother we destroyed while in the Deep Roads. And to spare us both the anguish, I'm not going into details about how it happens."  
Anora raised one slightly shaking hand to her mouth and whispered, "Dear Maker. And what happened to the woman who told you of this?"  
"Because she was so far...gone, she committed suicide rather than...continue. So to answer your question, that is why we wouldn't allow the darkspawn to take you. No one deserves that kind of fate."  
Pale and still shaken, Anora nodded slightly, eyes slightly unfocused as she thought over all that she'd been told. To give her a chance to recover, Marlana turned back to the window and gazed up at the darkening clouds. Despite the miserable weather, she was grateful to be on the surface.  
Behind her, Anora delicately cleared her throat, "Why not just say we were Tainted? I imagine -"  
Furious, Marlana whirled around, eyes blazing, "Because that goes against everything we are as Wardens. I've had to do my duty too many times during the Blight to falsely accuse anyone of such."  
"I see."  
She clenched her fists behind her as she snarled, "No, you don't Anora. Don't even claim to do so. Have you had to tell two parents that you have to kill their child because she was Tainted? Did you ever have to raze a village because you had just cleared out a pack of ghouls and you had to make sure their corruption wouldn't spread? If not, don't even try."  
"And you called my father a monster!"  
"There is no cure for the Taint, Anora. None. The Wardens have been searching for one for centuries. I tried to make it as quick and painless as possible."  
She turned back to the window, otherwise if she kept watching Anora there would be the need for a new Teryna which would make things difficult for Alistair in all sorts of ways. She continued, "Besides, I never claimed not to be a monster. I am one. Just one that wants to protect people from the other monsters in the world. And there are a great many of them out there, many of them walking on two legs."  
Uncomfortable silence fell again between them and Marlana finally decided to ask something that had been bothering her all this time. "Why did you let your father take over the way he did?"  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
"You're ten years my senior and apparently had been running things for Cailan. It's not exactly like you were a child who needed an adult's guidance."  
"He was my father, what did you expect me to do?" Now it was Anora's turn to have a frosty tone.  
"Act like an adult."  
"How dare you?"  
This time Marlana did stalk over to Anora, "I dare because if you had acted like the Queen you claimed to be, we wouldn't be in this situation. You'd have your ass on the throne while Alistair and I could concentrate on being Wardens. Instead, we're all in positions we don't want."  
Pale, thin lipped with anger, Anora snarled, "And what would you have me do? Kill my own father?"  
Marlana's blew out her breath, still angry, but it was starting to fade into annoyance now that the worst of her ire had been vented. "Maker's Breath! I'm not that much of a monster. You could have just had him confined somewhere for everyone's good, including his own."  
Feeling emotionally drained, but not wanting to show that in case Anora took it as a sign of weakness, Marlana finally settled down in her seat. The glare she received didn't faze Marlana in the slightest, she'd received far worse from people who posed an actual threat to her.  
More than a little stonily Anora demanded, "And if our positions were reversed? Would you have confined your father?"  
"For violating duty to king and country? In a heartbeat."  
In an uncanny imitation of a comment Alistair had made long before, Anora sneered, "You Couslands and your duty. Look at where it got you, what has your precious duty done for you?"  
What she'd accept from Alistair, was something she wouldn't tolerate from the woman that led to her being tortured and almost raped. Glacial sapphire eyes stared at the Teyrna and Anora fell silent. The silence stretched to the breaking point as Marlana struggled with the fury that demanded Anora's death for all that she did and didn't do. Anora looked away for a long moment with a thoughtful expression, then met the eyes empty of anything but that terrible ice. "That was going too far. I understand now why Alistair didn't want us to meet. It wasn't just a concern that I might I do something to you, but the very real possibility that you might do something to me. Though I don't believe it was the fact he would be upset that something happened to me, but that it might bother you at some point."  
Not trusting her voice, Marlana gave a single sharp nod. Anora fell back into that thoughtful contemplation. "I did mean what I said to Teagan, that Alistair isn't...Cailan, or Maric. And that you aren't to him what I was to Cailan. I just didn't realize the degree of the differences until recently."  
Softly, almost too soft to hear, Marlana replied, "We've had very different experiences in life. I've been shaped by far harsher situations than what you probably have dealt with. For what it is worth, I do regret executing your father in front of you. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have handled that differently."  
Anora didn't hide her astonishment, "But you do not regret the...action itself."  
"I'm sorry, but I don't regret it, though I did try to make it as quick and clean as possible. I gave him chances to change his mind about the Wardens. He chose to continue on his course, so I went on mine."  
Her brow furrowed in confusion, "Chances? I don't believe either of you had any type of communication during the time between Ostagar and the Landsmeet."  
"There was the crew that attacked me in Lothering that I sent running with their tails between their legs. Again at Redcliffe with the spy he set to monitor the happenings there. Again outside the entrance to Orzammar."  
"But Howe said..." She trailed off at Marlana's pointed look. Her brow creased slightly again, "I was a fool not to listen to Erlina."  
One silver-white brow winged up.  
Smooth, unblemished hands clenched each other, "It is my turn to apologize. Erlina... She told me to be straight forward with you, but I thought I had everything planned out..." Anora trailed off at the sardonic expression on Marlana's face.  
"I knew it was a trap, Anora. Did you honestly believe that I was able to evade all the people your father and Howe set after me for over a year just to fall for something so obvious? My only mistake was not anticipating the small army Cauthrien brought with her."  
She picked up her now cold tea to take a careful sip, testing for anything untoward, but simply making it seem something more ladylike. "That was when I decided that you couldn't be trusted."  
"And now you're giving me a second chance despite all that lays between us."  
"I am."  
Anora's forehead furrowed, "I know said it was because Gwaren needed me, but surely it is more than that?"  
"Perhaps."  
Light blue eyes narrowed as she considered the silver haired woman, the long mane held back from the face by elegant, emerald green combs, who was calmly drinking tea. And not elaborating on the short comment. "And how do I know you won't betray me with this the way you did with the Landsmeet?"  
"I didn't betray you at the Landsmeet."  
"No? I seem to remember you promising to support me."  
"What I said is that we were allies until the Landsmeet. Really, did you think that I was going to support the woman who was the reason why I was imprisoned and tortured in Fart Drakon? That sided with the man who slaughtered my family?"  
Anora was silent for a moment, "I didn't tell them to do anything to you, except to treat you with the respect that a woman of your rank should be treated."  
Marlana was getting tired of dealing with Anora and her excuses. She also didn't like the way Oogie was eying the woman. She wasn't quite sure what Alistair had told her hound but she knew he'd had a long chat with the mabari and after said chat, Oogie had gotten even more over protective. In fact, he was almost as bad as Alistair. Hoping to end the conversation, she jerked up a sleeve of her tunic to reveal the long, jagged scar that ran in a line from her wrist to shoulder. Anora couldn't hide her sickened expression.  
"Cauthrien's guards gave me over to Howe's goons, what else did you expect?" Letting the garment fall back into place, she spoke in that too calm voice that had Oogie sitting up alertly and fixing Anora with a gimlet stare. The woman froze, not wanting to set off the hound. Rubbing her forehead, Marlana stifled the urge to sigh, surprised it took so long to set off Oogie, but at the same time she was annoyed that she had gotten him upset. As gently as possible, she said, "Easy, Oogie, she's no danger."  
The rheumy eyes remained on Anora as the hound slowly laid back down, but he didn't pretend to go back to his mock dozing, distrust making every muscle in his body go taut. Warily watching the mabari in return, Anora cleared her throat, "I do apologize, Marlana. For all that has fallen between us, I normally don't misjudge people or situations so badly."  
Marlana was shocked speechless. She'd been expecting recriminations and bitter accusations, but not an apology. Anora gave a small smile at the reaction, "I have had a great deal of time to think these past few months. And I realized that I was viewing you and Alistair through the lens of my experiences with Maric and Cailan. It's as I told Teagan, he may clearly be related to them, but he's not like either of them. And I now realize that the relationship between the two of you is nothing like mine with Cailan."  
Still not quite sure what to say, she nodded warily. During the reception at the coronation, she'd heard quite a few comments about how Alistair threw himself into his duties as King to distract himself from his worry and grief over her extended unconsciousness. A marked difference from Maric during Rowan's illness and subsequent death. And while he had Cailan's charm and good humor, he wasn't as frivolous. Apparently Anora had heard the same.  
Blowing out her breath slightly, Marlana said, "I think we both have quite a bit to think about."  
"Indeed. Thank you for your time, this was more informative than I had hoped."  
"Then I hope you have a good day. If you need any assistance for your lands, let Teagan or I know."  
A delicate, golden brow arched up, "You or the Chancellor?"  
A wry grin flitted across Marlana's face as she gracefully stood, "Somehow I don't think you really want to deal with Alistair directly. You can of course, given your position, but..."  
One of Anora's hands started to flutter to her throat then stopped and fell back to her lap, "No, you're right. Yet, you're willing to work with me."  
"As I said, I'm giving you a second chance. Had you harmed anyone else besides me, I wouldn't be so open minded. I'm as protective as Alistair and more subtle."  
"I'll keep that in mind for the future," she said faintly. Then she said in a stronger tone, "I wish you a good day as well. And I hope happier dealings in the future."  
Lana inclined her head slightly, "Yes, here's hoping for a happier future."  
In the flowing, graceful movements of a predator, she walked to the door, then paused with her hand on the latch. "Earlier, you asked me if I had other reasons for agreeing to making you Teyrna."  
"And?"  
"The reason I agreed is that I wanted to see what Anora Mac Tir could do on her own. Not as the daughter to Loghain Mac Tir or wife to Cailan Thieren, but as her own person."  
This time it was Anora who was speechless as Marlana disappeared through the door, her mabari at her side. Not for the first time, Anora mentally kicked herself for underestimating the youngest Cousland. Particularly given a conversation she had with Eleanor over three years ago, one she'd never forgotten.  
It'd been over tea, much like the meeting she had with Marlana, but it was in a parlor in the palace. More telling had been the fact both women were at their ease with one another. Even if Eleanor wasn't fond of Anora, she was still respectful and Anora did like her because the Teyrna was an honest woman. They'd been catching up on gossip when she finally asked about something that was bothering her.  
"Tell me, Eleanor, why don't you and Bryce bring your daughter to court anymore? I seem to remember her being a charming child and she's of an age where time spent in Denerim could be of some advantage."  
A smile full of exasperated amusement warmed the older woman's features, "Ah, about that. My beautiful, fierce girl is a daughter to make any parent proud, but she some...quirks that still need some refinement."  
Now she was truly curious, "Quirks? In what way? If you don't me asking."  
"Not at all." Eleanor drank some tea then quietly chuckled, "Lana has a very keen mind and sharp of eye so she tends to see through people. Because of that, she can see when she's being lied to and isn't afraid to call someone out on that. Can you imagine the havoc she'd cause at court?"  
Anora couldn't help but laugh with Eleanor at the thought. Smiling, Eleanor commented, "And it's not that my daughter isn't ready to deal with Ferelden as a whole. It's the fact that I'm fairly certain that Ferelden isn't ready for Marlana."  
Three years later, she realized that she'd gone away with some gross misjudgments about the youngest Cousland child. At the time she'd gone away with the impression that Marlana was the typical child that was intellectually gifted, but socially awkward and wouldn't do well at politics. It was that underestimation that cost Anora her throne and almost her life.  
Frowning thoughtfully, she went over the conversation she just had and realized it was Marlana who had chosen which direction it went. Fierce, keen of mind and eye... Even Eleanor had underestimated her daughter. And hadn't mentioned just how strong Marlana's personality was, or how frighteningly persuasive she could be.  
Or maybe she didn't underestimate Marlana, and didn't want to give away everything about the girl, despite that comment about Ferelden not being ready for her daughter. Even though Eleanor didn't live to see all that Marlana had gone through, she suspected that the deceased Teyrna wouldn't have been surprised that Marlana had succeeded at winning against seemingly impossible odds. Because of everything, she had a grudging respect for the young noblewoman.  
She didn't like Marlana, probably never would, there was too much in the past between them for that to occur. And had a good feeling that the same held true in Marlana's case. But she could respect her and because of that, could work with her. Speaking of work, there was much to be done, so she put aside the mental woolgathering, picked up the folio and swept out of the room.  
Damn the woman, even Anora wanted to see what she could do on her own now that thought was put into her head.  
-oOo-  
Alistair glared down at the reports in front of him. Not that what was contained in them were offensive, just day to day minutiae. But they were the most convenient target since Teagan was doing his work and he didn't want to vent on poor Giles. The weather was too miserable to go pound on some targets to work off his frustration and while there was a small salle for indoor training, it held no appeal since if he was indoors he might as well get some work done.  
Except he wasn't getting anything done, not while he worried over Lana. Which was just irritating because he knew that Lana was a match for the vi-, er noblewoman, particularly since the woman had no authority in the city anymore. If anything, Anora needed to worry about causing Lana to have Anora re-imprisoned. But he could never forget the memory of carrying a cold, pale Marlana in his arms as her blood slowly seeped out from the torture she went through in the Fort.  
Feeling broody, irritated and restless, Alistair glared down at the paperwork some more. So when the knock at the door came, he seized on the chance for a distraction. A baffled looking guard opened the door at his permission to enter. "Many pardons, Sire, but there's a couple of dwarves here to see you, or rather to make an appointment to see you. Well, they say they're dwarves. One is obviously a dwarf, the other is mighty odd lookin'. The normal lookin' one says 'is name is Boran, Bodan, Bordan... Hum. Anyway, the Chamberlain said to see when you wanted to see 'em. If you did."  
"Bodhan? Bodhan Fedic?"  
"That's it, Your Majesty."  
"In that case, send them up now." Thank the Maker, a possible solution to one problem at least. And now he was wondering about the "odd looking dwarf", he knew it couldn't be Oghren, the guards all knew him. Usually because they made the mistake of drinking with him. And while it could be Sandal, he didn't think that was the case.  
The guard didn't hide his surprise, "You sure about that, Sire? Looks like you're busy."  
"Just busy work. I could use a break from it."  
With a sharp salute the guard left, a few minutes later Bodhan and his mysterious companion were escorted into the room. The dwarven trader bowed deeply and beamed up at Alistair, "Your Majesty, it's very good to see you. You and Lady Marlana are doing well?"  
He smiled in return, granted the trader may have had some odd notions about where to get his wares, but he'd been pleasant company on the road and extremely helpful in keeping the group supplied. Now Alistair hoped that the merchant's contacts would be just as helpful for Ferelden. "We're doing well, thank you. And Bodhan, you know you can still call me by name in private."  
Bodhan made a complicated shrugging motion, and not directly addressing the comment gestured to his companion, "I'd like to introduce Varric Tethras of House Tethras in Kirkwall."  
He studied the dwarf and understood why the guard wasn't sure what he was. Instead of the typical short hair and long, luxuriant beard, Varric's blond hair was longer than most, tied back in a stubby tail at the back, and no beard at all save a hint of shadow along his broad jaw. He wore a heavy, leather duster over a richly embroidered tunic, the getup just made Alistair feel overheated just looking at him. The part that truly got him was how the tunic gaped open at the front revealing a chest of thick, luxuriant hair. So maybe that's where his beard went.  
Mentally shaking his head, Alistair gave one of his more charming smiles, "A pleasure to meet you, Messere Tethras." The hint of surprise at his use of the Kirkwall honorific gave him a hint of satisfaction. At least some of his studies were paying off, "If the two of you would have a seat?"  
As the three men sat, Varric smiled back and spoke in a rich, rolling voice that held an accent from the surface, not Orzammar, "Just Varric, Your Majesty. Anytime someone says Messere Tethras, I start looking for my stuffy older brother."  
"Then please, like Bodhan, call me Alistair. At least for now."  
Varric smirked, "Indeed, I'm sure you don't want to horrify your nobles."  
"Yes," Alistair said dryly, "I shock them enough as it is."  
"Oh, it's never a pretty thing when a noble is shocked considering the delicate constitution many have."  
A glint that was far too familiar to Bodhan entered the human's eyes, "You have no idea. Why, some of them almost faint when Lana smiles at them."  
Varric leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers tip to tip, a similar look in his, "Oh, I can well imagine -"  
Knowing that these two could likely go on for hours like this, Bodhan cleared is throat as delicately as possible, hoping he wasn't being horribly rude. When two pairs of amused tawny eyes turned to him, he resisted the urge to squirm. He'd been a little worried about how two men with such similar personalities would react, and it was his worst fears realized. The two had immediately hit it off. Not that he minded Alistair, but he preferred the man in small doses. And Varric in even smaller. The two combined... Dear Ancestors.  
"Ah...Alistair, I was told that you had a potential business proposition for us?"  
Alistair repressed a smile though his eyes gleamed slightly, leave it to Bodhan to be the down to earth one. Then remembering what he needed to make arrangements about caused his humor to evaporate.  
So displaying the more serious side of his nature, the one that had been growing throughout the Blight, he nodded, "Indeed, I'll be blunt. I'm hoping that you know of some merchants that might have grain and fodder for sale that won't beggar my country."  
Varric didn't seem surprised, either at the fact that Alistair didn't dance around the issue or that Ferelden would be in need of such things. He regarded the tips of one gloved hand as he dryly said, "Indeed, I've heard that Blights alone can do that, never mind a messy civil war. Then again, compared to the nobles of Hightown when they're in a snit, your civil war wasn't that messy after all."  
He cast a shrewd glance at the King, "And I have a good idea as to why you're not going through Orlais for the supplies."  
Trying to keep from tensing, Alistair nodded. The dwarf leaned back in his chair with a small smile, "Then maybe we can work something out. I happen to know of a supplier looking for new markets that would be amenable to a deal."  
"I'm sensing a catch here."  
"Oh, nothing too terrible, my new friend. At least I don't think so."  
"Really now, what did you have in mind?"  
"I'm a collector and teller of tales. I'd like to speak with Lady Marlana about hers."  
A dark gold brow arched up, "I would've thought you had heard all the tales told about that by now. Probably multiple times and versions."  
"That I have, but no one talks much about her before then. I'd like to learn more about such an unique, young woman."  
"Unique, that's one way of putting it, "Bodhan muttered.  
Varric continued blithely on without letting that brief interruption stopping him, "There are a good number of people who are older than she is that have fallen apart during far more minor crises. I want to see where such a remarkable person came from."  
Feeling a little astonished, Alistair leaned back in his chair to consider the request. It wasn't like he didn't know anything about his beloved's childhood, he knew a good bit. Both from her and Fergus. The only thing that could be considered vaguely traumatic was the incident of the unknown goo that Fergus had thrown at her when they were both young, and there'd been no malice involved. Just a teen boy's frustration with his annoying little sister. And Fergus had clarified that he had no idea there'd been anything in the knickknack he'd thrown until it shattered and the stuff got on Lana. The only changes had been physical, she'd always been bright, brave and bold. The first real trauma she would've experienced was Howe's betrayal of her family.  
Finally he shrugged since the two men were waiting patiently for a response, "I can ask her, but I can't make any promises."  
Varric smiled, "It's never a good idea to make a promise for someone else, particularly in the case of someone like your Lady. Either of you can let me know what her decision is and in the meantime I can have some of the clerks get in touch with yours to work out a contract."  
"That sounds fair enough. Thank you, Varric. You as well, Bodhan." He'd had a few other tentative offers, but some of the rates seemed exorbitant and knew that whomever Bodhan dug up would likely be a more reasonable person. Or so he hoped.  
The three men stood, shook hands before the two traders left to go about the rest of the day, Bodhan not quite hiding his relief that the unexpected meeting was over and Varric whistling a happy tune. As he went back to his paperwork, Alistair found that he was hoping that Lana would agree. Not just because it would help the country, but that during the brief conversation he developed a surprisingly quick liking of the man. Of course a large part of that liking was that it the two of them shared a similar sense of humor. He also wanted to hear some of the man's stories, it sounded like he had a few that would be entertaining.  
So in an unexpectedly better frame of mind, he returned to his work.  
-oOo-  
"I'm not going to apologize, Commander," Kendrick commented as she entered the common room and he fell in beside her.  
She slanted a look up at him, "Hmm, so Alistair did put you and the others up to this then."  
"No, it was purely our idea."  
Lana frowned, "Don't you think having a small army follow me as a little excessive?"  
"It was only 10 Wardens, Commander."  
"As I said."  
They paused to side of the door as Lana considered the weather. It looked like the storm had finally passed, and she briefly considered walking back. Except she didn't want to deal with the silent reproachful looks from her guards and Oogie, or Alistair's more vocal annoyance. Besides she really wanted a private chat with Kendrick. Walking in public wasn't exactly conducive to that type of talk. Before she got into the waiting carriage, she gave him a sharp look, "I trust you have the means for the others to get back to the compound?"  
"Yes, ser."  
"Good, send them on their way, you're with me."  
She sensed the approaching Warden before he came into sight and not for the first time wished she could teach the others how to suppress their presence the way she could. None of them, not even those with similar training to her like Kendrick or Delindro could do. At first she thought it had to do with Avernus's brew, but she'd been able to do that long before she drank from the poisoned chalice again. As the two talked briefly, she got into the carriage, Oogie settled himself at her feet, taking up most of the floor with his bulk. The hound gave a canine grin as the human carefully edged his way in the carriage. He was barely seated before they were off.  
Cool sapphire eyes fixed Kendrick in his place, "So you don't believe my guards couldn't protect me?"  
"They aren't Wardens."  
"And what's that supposed to mean?"  
He leaned forward earnestly, "Commander. Marlana. You're one of the finest of our Order, both as a Warden and Commander. You've proven to Ferelden, to the world, and most importantly your fellow Wardens, that we're more than just some archaic order that has no business lingering around. Our Order can be so much more than just hunters of darkspawn." He gave her a crooked grin, "Granted, we'd be glorified monster hunters, but that can be good in this day and age. And maybe it didn't occur to you, but you're a hero to us as well. We don't want anything to happen to you. And between the execution this morning and your little conference with Anora, well...we just wanted to keep an eye out. Just in case."  
She stared at him speechlessly, but Oogie took the opportunity to rear up and slobber his approval on the unsuspecting Warden. She couldn't help but chuckle at his sputtering, which turned into gagging when he accidentally inhaled some of the slobber. With a small smile, she pulled out a handkerchief for him to wipe his face with. "Well, it seems that Oogie approves at least."  
He grunted in disgusted agreement. More seriously she said, "I honestly didn't realize that you felt this way."  
"It's not just me."  
Oogie plopped his heavy head on her lap and she began to absently rub behind his ears. She looked out the window feeling uncomfortable. "I'm no hero, Kendrick. I just did what I saw as my duty."  
There was a dry chuckle, "Ah, Commander. If only more people saw their duty so clearly. But isn't that what a hero? Someone who sees their duty, no matter how awful, and commits themselves to it and sees that it's done."  
That put far too better of a face on her actions. She felt him studying her, "Commander, we don't have any illusions about what you and Alistair had to do during the Blight. That you're still capable of love and laughter after all the horror, it's an amazing thing. Sure, you're giving to brooding a lot, but you're young yet, and I'm sure you'll grow out of it."  
She laughed, the sweet sound that she'd been capable of more and more as each day went by. He smiled in return, "See? You make a lie of all those sour comments about us being all grim, gray and grumpy."  
"I'd say that's more Alistair than I."  
"Oh, him. He'll be making cracks when being carted off to his funeral pyre. If he doesn't find a way to make it one big joke."  
"Isn't that the best way to go?"  
"Aye, lass. That it is."  
She smiled again, this time at the fact he called her lass rather than Commander. When he gave her a questioning look, Lana settled back into the cushion of the jewelry case on wheels with an impish look in her eyes. She'd eventually get him to call her Lana. Just like she was getting Delindro to start calling her by name when not out in public.  
-oOo-  
When Alistair and Lana were finally able to meet back up, they shared their respective afternoons, though he had her go first.  
"You told her about the broodmothers?" He was a little aghast at the thought. Not that he didn't want people to know. But he was a little horrified that was the first thing that she talked about with Anora.  
"Like I said, she asked why didn't give her over to the darkspawn. So I told her why."  
He muttered, "More like the fact I didn't want to see what kind of hurlocks would come out of an Anora-broodmother."  
"Alistair!" Though she couldn't help laughing at his comment. He gave her a cheeky grin, then had her finish her tale.  
He shook his head in amazement, "Only you can get someone to go from broodmothers to not so subtly threatening her to getting her to agree to work with you."  
"Oh, I think it's a combination of things. That she doesn't know what to make of me and having been imprisoned for a few months made her more amenable to working with me."  
He just shook his head again.  
She picked up her neglected wineglass, "So, you said you had an interesting afternoon yourself?"  
Alistair waited until she after she sipped her wine to tell her about the brief conversation and possible deal with the two dwarven traders. She stared at him, "He wants to know about my story before the Blight? Why? It wasn't all that interesting and I lived it."  
"Well, he wanted to understand you ended up the way you did. I don't think anyone understands how you turned out the way you did."  
She grinned, "Including me."  
"So will you do it? They sent over a preliminary list of rates, it seems fair enough. But I'm going to let better financial minds go over it before I commit."  
"Well, I'm sure as long as he understands there's certain secrets that I won't share..."  
"He is a dwarf from a dwarven merchant clan, even if they're surface dwarves."  
"Good point, why don't you let this Varric Tethras know I agree to his terms, with my caveats."  
"Of course." He smiled at her warmly and breathed, "But enough about Ferelden, I want some time for just us."  
Sapphire eyes brightened, "Oh, I think we can figure something out for us to do."


	50. These Dreams

Roses the color of freshly spilled blood grew in a riotous spill down the ancient white stone walls, the blooms guarded by long, sharp thorns that looked more fitting as weapons than something that belonged on a plant. As he stood surveying the ancient courtyard, he realized that it was surrounded by a singular, massive, circular wall whose only entrance was an open archway. It was paved with more of the white stone. The only decorations of the place were benches made of that ubiquitous stone. Golden sunlight illuminated the entire scene.  
The sun should have been warm on his face and the air heavy with the scent of roses. But there was neither warmth nor scent.  
Alistair realized that he was in the Fade when he became conscious of the fact that his senses weren't fully engaged. When he saw the figure in the distance with his back to him, his gut clenched. While he had asked Lana to talk with his son, he'd never expected that request to be honored. He started to wonder about the reddish cast to the dark blond hair, until he remembered that before her accident, her hair had been the same auburn as Fergus's. Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out silently, he began to walk to his son.  
Son. For such a small word it held so much meaning, and a good bit of terror. What kind of person was he going to be? And he suddenly understood his love's bitter comment that night he held her in his arms for the first time since the Battle of Denerim.  
"He should have been ours."  
It was bitterly, horribly unfair that the woman who didn't care about having a child for the sake of family should be the one to raise him. He swallowed back those dark feelings when the other man turned around at his approach.  
Seeing Lana's eyes, something that held a part of her soul set in his face, even if the jaw was slimmer and nose not quite as aquiline as his... The emotional impact was as bad as some of the hits he'd taken during all the battles he'd been in during the Blight. Maybe worse. Lana's description had been spot on, he only saw himself and Lana reflected in Urthemiel's chosen appearance in the Fade. There was absolutely no hint of Morrigan in his features or attitude.  
He knew that shy look, he'd worn it often enough. He'd seen Lana's version numerous times before he worked out what that look was or why she'd worn it around him when they first got to know each other.  
The tentative smile on Urthemiel's face was heartbreaking, though Alistair thanked the Maker that the voice wasn't his, or Lana's or a mixture, but the man's own, as he hesitantly said, "Father."  
Swallowing back tears, he smiled back tentatively himself, "Son."  
True to his mother, even if she wasn't going to birth him, he could only think of Urthemiel as Lana's son, the dragon made human began to pace in that unmistakable movement of nervousness that Alistair knew all too well. Not just from Lana, but her brother as well, though both were careful about when they indulged in that way of working off tension. The two of them could be a pair of statues when around other nobles. Though he couldn't help noticing that Urthemiel moved with the grace of a dancer, rather than Lana's deadly grace of a predator. Then the soon to reborn dragon stopped his pacing and clasped his hands before him, "I truly didn't expect that you would want to see me, despite what Mother said."  
Oh, that was a definite gut punch. Why wouldn't he want to see his son? "I may not be able to raise you, but you are my child. Why wouldn't I want to see you when I can?"  
"Just, given your own history..."  
The anger was a welcome change from the pain and it made him a little savage without meaning to, "Is exactly why I wanted to be able to meet you. I'm not Maric and I wish people would stop comparing me to him." He gestured at the young man before him, his mind refusing to accept that the chosen appearance was older than his, "You are my son. I may not be allowed to say so in public or even breathe a word of your existence to anyone. And that is more for your protection than mine. If I could get away with it, I'd say that you were taken form us for just that reason. That even at an early age you showed the signs of being a mage and I didn't want my son to be raised in that Tower."  
Urthemiel's eyes widened in shock during Alistair's tirade. When the Warden fell silent, the former dragon bowed his head and murmured, "You honor me more than words can say."  
Then it was Alistair's turn to start pacing, feeling raw, uncomfortable and a little nervous himself. "I don't know if it's an honor, but it's the truth."  
For a moment familiar eyes changed to something ancient and unfathomable...yet still familiar. How often had he seen the mother's eyes shift in such away? "But such a passionate truth, Father. For me it is an honor. To be wanted as a child as myself and not what I can do for someone. They called me Beauty, created great works in my name, yet they didn't understand what I truly saw as Beauty." He smiled a little sheepishly, "I will admit to being vain enough to appreciate the paeans they heaped upon me, though."  
Alistair couldn't help but laugh, it didn't take long for Urthemiel to join him. Once they settled down, he hesitantly asked, "What do you want me to call you, calling you Urthemiel just seems...awkward."  
"Well, I don't have any other name, Aunt Morri said she's still trying to decide what to call me. Other than 'insufferable dragon-child' that is."  
A grin slowly bloomed, "I'm sure she just loves being called by that name."  
His grin was matched with twinkling blue eyes and a sly grin, "Oh yes, that's when she huffs about being just like my father and why can't I be like a normal child and sleep during this time."  
"Well, I will admit that I'm a little curious about how you're so active."  
Urthemiel sat down, crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands on the upper knee. "I've been asleep for quite some time and trapped in my dreaming. I wanted to see what has happened during that time. And well, I'm not sure if I'll be able to continue on like this while I'm still a hatchling."  
"Baby, hatchlings are dragons."  
"Either way, different names for the same thing, a small, soft and squishy critter that if it's not sleeping, eating and or defecting, is crying for momma."  
Alistair coughed, trying not to laugh at Urthemiel's indigence over being said small, soft and squishy critter in the near future. He eyed his human father suspiciously, but didn't say anything. Once over his choking, he asked, "Was there anything I might be able to tell you?"  
Seeing how Urthemiel brightened reminded him of how Oogie could get excited over a bone that still had bits of meat on it. Alistair was a little surprised he didn't start wriggling in excitement and couldn't quite hide his smile at the thought. The smile seemed to only encourage Urthemiel, not dissuade him. "Why yes, I do have a few questions. Maybe you should sit down? You're making my neck hurt having to look up at you."  
Before sitting down, he stopped and looked down at the seated man to consider the situation. For a brief moment he wondered... But he wasn't trapped, he remembered what that felt like with the sloth demon during the time they were purging Kinloch Hold, and this felt very different. Besides, he'd known he was in the Fade immediately, there was no fogginess or confusion in his mind. Satisfied, at least for the moment, that this wasn't a demon trying to mess with his mind, Alistair settled down on the bench next to the one Urthemiel was ensconced on.  
With a satisfied nod, Urthemiel gave him an opaque look, "Well, first of all how do you make do with just walking on two legs, or four if you use one of those stupid smelly beasts as a means of getting about?"  
Laughing, Alistair said, "Ha! You don't start off with just two feet. You start off crawling, or rolling in the cases of some, and eventually get to the two feet bit. As for how we make do, well, we don't know anything else really."  
He grinned even more broadly when Urthemiel looked like he'd eaten a bug when told that human infants started off crawling. Somewhat crossly he grumbled, "I hope this crawling thing doesn't last very long."  
"I'm no great expert at children, but I've been told it depends on the child." As Urthemiel nodded thoughtfully, Alistair decided he was going to stay far away from the topic of diapers if the former dragon was having that many problems with the thought of rolling or crawling. Somehow he didn't think his too self-possessed son would appreciate the concept of being in a nappy the first couple of years of his life. Thankfully the conversation shifted from infancy to other things about life as a human.  
It took a little while, but eventually Alistair realized that Urthemiel was indirectly asking about his life. First in Redcliffe, then in the monastery. That caused a strange feeling, he'd never had anyone express that kind of interest in him like that just because they wanted to know about Alistair the man, not the Bastard Prince or new King. No one, except for one person and he was going to be married to her in a couple of months. But this was his son, who would want to know about the man who fathered him, even if that man couldn't be there for him. And really, didn't he have similar questions for Maric if he'd been given the chance?  
The main thing he tried to tell Urthemiel without saying so outright was that Urthemiel was wanted. That he hadn't been abandoned as being a threat to the throne. Despite what he'd said to Morrigan about the baby being a threat, it wasn't true. Not now, not after talking with someone he'd be proud to call his own.  
So trying to shake off that odd, unsettled and quite frankly surreal feeling about the situation, Alistair tried to answer the questions of the son he'd never be able to have in his life.  
They were both laughing over an anecdote that Alistair was telling when Urthemiel suddenly fell silent and stared off in the distance. A look of absolute terror filled the man's features, "Mother needs you now. I can't help her, I'd pose more harm than aid."  
All levity fell away as he leapt to his feet, wishing he had some sort of armor and weapon, "I hope you can at least point me in the right direction."  
Though he wasn't a mage, but being "awake", the Fade answered his desire, his familiar, battered Warden plate appeared about Alistair, and the sword and shield of Maric were suddenly at hand. Urthemiel nodded approvingly, "When you go through the arch, the path will take you to her. You'll understand why I can't go when you get there."  
"Take care of yourself...son, "Alistair said as he charged to his Lady's rescue, wondering what he was charging into.  
The path wasn't long, it went through a shadowy grove leading to a cave. He plunged into the natural opening, but when he saw the rough cut marks, realized that this wasn't natural. And it wasn't dwarven work, if it were the sides would be smooth, the floor and ceiling free of stalactites and stalagmites. No, this looked like a tunnel bored by darkspawn, Maker knew he'd seen enough tunnels like that while in the Deep Roads. Though he couldn't sense them yet, the air held the reek of their Tainted stench. Keeping all of his senses as sharp as possible, he continued briskly on his way, not daring to run given the treacherous nature of the floor and not wanting to plunge into a pack of monsters unprepared.  
He felt them before he saw them. Felt her as well before seeing her or what must be her captors. Fearing what might be happening, he slowly eased into the chamber the tunnel led to. Inside was an ancient amphitheater that was dwarven work, the stands filled with restless darkspawn who were occupied by the tableau in the center. A corner of his mind noted the oddity of some of the monsters wearing white face paint. But his main focus was on the center of the scene.  
On a raised square of soiled stone was something out of a nightmare. Marlana, clad in ragged clothing, was chained to the stone, hate radiating from her posture and fierce cobalt gaze. Standing before her was the strangest emissary he'd ever seen. The thing looked almost human, with an odd mask and headpiece on its head, garbed in a strangely elaborate robe.  
He couldn't believe his ears when he heard the emissary speak in surprisingly smooth tones, "Why do you continue to resist, Redeemer? You saved Urthemiel, yet you will not save us?"  
She snarled, "Save you? So that you can continue to spread your Taint to every living thing? Save you and damn everything else? Never."  
It sighed in disappointment, "And yet you know the outcome is always the same despite your protests."  
Sapphire eyes scanned the area, seemingly blind to Alistair's presence like the darkspawn below him. Yet he knew she'd seen him, but wouldn't let on to warn their enemies. Her mouth curled in disgust, "Maybe so, but the outcome is my choice. No matter what you do, I never give in, never serve you. Never cause another Blight like you want."  
"That is not what I want. You know this, Redeemer. It is why we continue to come to you. So that you can save us from the madness of the song."  
"And yet each time you come as my enemies would. If you truly wanted things to be different, you would approach in peace when I am in the waking world."  
"You still give me no choice."  
The odd emissary gestured, and she howled in pain as a dark substance began to pour out of her, including her eyes and ears, mouth and skin. That broke the stunned paralysis that had fallen on him when he first saw the situation. With a snarl, he readied sword and shield as he plunged down the walkway to get to get close enough to smite the emissary before it could do anything else to Lana. With the flow of the black liquid out of her body, the sense of her presence faded.  
No, not the sense of her presence, the sense of her Taint. Somehow, he could still feel her through a bond that shouldn't have still existed, but did. His heart began to hammer in chest out of fear of what they might do to her without the protection of being a Warden.  
He'd worry about how they achieved such a thing later.  
The horde of monsters seemed surprised to see him as he ran down the crumbling stairs. As he'd often done in the past, Alistair used his shield as a battering ram to make his way through the swarming darkspawn. Even though his focus was on Lana's plight, he still couldn't ignore the shouted orders from the painted darkspawn. Orders shouted in words he could understand like "Stop the human!" Or an angrily howled, "Warden!"  
Feeling some of them coming up from the rear, he spun quickly lashing out with his sword. Unlike in reality, where the blade held a faint glimmer from its runes, here the weapon blazed with a clean, brilliant light that made the monstrous creatures cringe. Making quick work of the squat genlocks, he continued his slow progress onward and downwards. Laying about with blade and shield, he could only catch glimpses of Lana between the waves of darkspawn, the "normal" ones and the disturbingly intelligent, talking ones.  
Another wail of agony in a beloved voice distracted him momentarily and even caused the darkspawn to freeze.  
Flesh flowed like molten candle wax as it lost it's sun-kissed golden color, turning the color of moonlight, fingers lengthened, the ends attenuating into sharp, silvery claws. The rest of the body shifted, lengthened as well and took on a subtly inhuman posture. With another scream, great, leathery wings the color of shining silver erupted from her back.  
The most horrific thing of all was when she looked up. Though contorted in agony, the face was Marlana's, as were the sapphire eyes and the furious spirit behind them. He recognized that fury, and it gave him heart. That fury meant she hadn't given up and she was going to make them all pay for what was done to her.  
Fury of his own galvanized him. Alistair didn't know what exactly was going on, or why Lana would have such a nightmare, but he was damned if he was going to let anything torment her any further.  
Particularly darkspawn, smart and talking or not. Giving voice to a battle cry that was more wordless scream of anger than actual words, he eviscerated a hurlock, then bashed away a shriek that suddenly appeared at his left. The creature went down with its skull caved in, but it had managed to latch its claws into his shield and dragged it, and him down. Rather than let himself get overwhelmed, he let go of the shield, used the movement to grab up a fallen blade in his off hand. In that moment he was oddly grateful that he'd insisted on learning some of Lana's style, or rather refining what he'd learned from sparring with her, as he spun low using the two blades to cut the legs out from under his monstrous foes.  
Rising up, he realized that the twin blades were more useful in cutting a path through than his usual method of bulling his way through with his shield. A grim, feral smile tugged at his mouth as he continued his slaughter. Familiar chanting caught his attention and without looking away from his current target, let loose with a smite. He snarled in satisfaction as the chanting faded away and he sliced a pair of hurlocks in half as he made his way to the emissary he had just stunned and drained. He casually beheaded it before advancing further down as he smashed his armored elbow into the face of a shriek trying to come up from behind him.  
There was a scream of tortured metal from below and Alistair spared a glance down. Lana had exploited a weakness in the chains, causing some of the links to snap. The feral light of battle lit her eyes as she lashed out with the chains at the captor as if they were metal whips. It fled before her assault, calling out to its "disciples", whatever they were. Apparently the "disciples" were the face-painted ones as they withdrew with their leader, leaving the "normal" darkspawn behind, splitting them into two groups. One to surround Alistair, one flowing down to go after Lana.  
Scared of what their Taint might do to her in her now unprotected state, Alistair doubled his efforts to get down to her, not even trying to kill the creatures, instead using his weapons to just shove everything out of his way. He plunged down to the end of the stairs to find himself at ledge many yards above the filthy, sandy floor below. Glancing to either side, he saw streams of more darkspawn running his way. He was even more intensely grateful at the continued lack of ogres.  
Sucking in a deep breath, and hoping that despite the realism of combat in this part of the Fade, what he was about to do wasn't going to leave him crippled... Alistair gave voice to another wordless shout as he leapt down to the bottom of the amphitheater. He landed in the filthy sand with a crunch, but thankfully it was the ground beneath him making that sound and not his bones.  
Not pausing, he used the momentum from his landing to propel himself to where Lana was still fighting the swarm of darkspawn around her, continuing to use the chains that once bound her as weapons to protect herself with. One chain knocked back a group of darkspawn that were advancing on her, another chain wrapped around a hurlock then sent it spinning away into another clump of monsters.  
Those that tried to come up from behind were smashed away by her wings. Seeing her fight, even though she was caught in some awful hybrid of human woman and dragon, was a magnificent sight to see. But it was Marlana, so in his eyes, what had been done was awful, but she still blazed as brightly as a silver blade under the light of the full moon.  
Still destroyed darkspawn as swiftly as a blade worked with silverite runes.  
That thought sent him moving again. He smashed into a teaming mass of monsters that were starting to move into Lana's rear. Burning blood sprayed, and he hoped none would end up on her as he hacked his way through. Then he was through and at her back. It was surprisingly easy to adapt to her increased height and having to take into account the wings, yet a part of him wasn't surprised. The part that still had that odd bond between them, the bond that let them coordinate so well. Well, the bond seemed odd to anyone else.  
But this wasn't the time to think about such things. Instead he fell into their old habit of fighting back to back against all foes. Or to be more accurate, back to wings.  
"So any plans on how to get out of here?" He shouted to her over the howling throng of ever increasing darkspawn numbers.  
"Yes. Just -" She paused as she lashed out with the chains now rust colored from blood.  
He woke with a start to a warm, calloused and very human hand with normal fingers ending in normal nails gently stroking his face as Lana rasped, "Wake up, Alistair."  
Heart racing, breath wheezing in his chest, he stared up at her, taking in the familiar heart shaped face with its high cheekbones, narrow nose, generous mouth and big blue eyes. Her skin was its normal sun-kissed gold streaked pale silver with an impressive collection of scars, and her silver hair fell about them both in a shimmering fall. Hesitantly, he reached up to cup her face in one rough hand, then ran it down her throat to her her shoulder, down the arm to clasp the hand on his face, to gently tug her hand down to kiss her knuckles.  
Never before had he been so grateful to feel Lana's odd Taint as a Warden.  
Tears started to pour down Lana's cheeks and she lay down on top of him to bury her face into his bare chest, her free arm hugging him close. He didn't saying anything, just held her close, gritting his teeth against the emotional anguish that poured out of her and trying to reassure her that he was still there for her. She wasn't much of a crier, so when she did give in to tears, it made things that much more difficult for the chivalrous part of his soul that got upset when unable to do something for a damsel in distress.  
When the silent weeping eased, he sat up and pulled her with him, Lana rearranging herself so that her head rested on his shoulder as she snuggled against him as she was seated on his lap. With the gentleness that still sometimes surprised her, Alistair used an edge of the sheet covering them to wipe her eyes, now red and puffy from crying.  
Reassured that she was all right for the moment, he quietly asked, "Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?"  
She shivered slightly, "Until now, I thought they were nightmares based off vague memories that I'd gotten from a certain someone. Even he wasn't sure, but neither of us wanted to risk him entering those dreams."  
Alistair closed his eyes, trying not to feel hurt. So Urthemiel didn't want to see him for his sake, it had been because of Lana's nightmares. Before the pain built up, he felt a light jab in his ribs and a more subtle, non-physical one. He reluctantly opened his eyes and looked down at Lana who was torn between annoyance and worry. Thankfully that soul deep horror, fear and sickness had receded for the moment. "What did I say this time?"  
He squirmed, "It wasn't you exactly."  
She waited. He squirmed a little more, but had effectively pinned himself by the position he'd chosen for them. He sighed and ran a hand over his hair, causing it spike up, "I was talking with... him. I thought, he wanted to talk to me, because of, well. But I was wrong."  
The annoyance faded into something else he didn't want to understand. She ran a hand along his face, "Oh, love, I'm sorry. He finally worked up the nerve to talk with you and my idiot dream had to interrupt."  
"Wait, what? Worked up the nerve to talk to me?" Now he was confused. He didn't think he was that bad. And after talking with Urthemiel, he'd realized just how much similarity they had in some respects. Why would his son be terrified of talking to him?  
She nodded, "I don't talk with him often, but enough... He's been terrified of how you'd react given your family history. He finally did and I had to ruin it."  
Now she drew away, sliding away from him and out of bed, pulling a wrap around herself as she paced to one of the nearby windows, tugging slightly at one of the heavy drapes to reveal a sliver of the night sky over the mostly slumbering city. Concerned, he slid over to the side of the bed, legs dangling over the side, fists planted to either side and he leaned forward, "Lana? Please tell me you didn't plan this dream?"  
"Plan them?" She sputtered. "Maker if I knew how to plan them, then I could avoid having the blasted things. There's no rhyme or reason. Some weeks nothing, some weeks several nights."  
The knot in his chest eased. So Urthemiel had wanted to see him for the very reason he said. That particular trouble eased, he studied Lana a little more closely, not needing their bond to know she was still troubled. It was his turn to slide out of bed, instead of grabbing his robe, he pulled on the leather trousers that had been discarded earlier that night then strode over to the small sideboard that contained assorted beverages and snacks that wouldn't spoil. He was a little disappointed at the lack of her typical reaction to the sight of him in those pants without wearing anything else. Yet wasn't surprised given the misery that was radiating from her as she debated what she was going to say.  
A faint smile twitched his lips, remembering that once he'd never be so casual in pouring a drink stronger than an ale, as he carefully poured a sweet smelling, golden liquid out of a small flask into two equally small cups. While he had no intentions to turn to drink to solve all problems, he had learned that it helped to ease nerves, particularly Lana's given her abnormally high tolerance for alcohol for one her size. Or maybe not so odd considering the years of fiddling with poisons without any apparent long standing effects. Normally he wouldn't even use drink to settle her, but at that moment he knew any of his usual ploys wouldn't work.  
Carefully, so he wouldn't spill anything in the small vessels, he walked over to Lana and handed her a drink. She took a cautious sip and he couldn't help the small smile at the delighted surprise, "This is good. Is it some type of mead?"  
"You could say that. It's Oghren's version of it at any rate. He knows your fondness for sweet stuff and thought you might like this."  
She suddenly eyed the drink suspiciously causing him to chuckle a little, "It probably has a hidden kick, but I've been assured it's safe enough to drink. Quite unlike his 'special brew'."  
His quip finally elicited a faint smile and she returned to cautiously sipping the drink. Alistair set his untouched cup to the side and wrapped an arm around her. "Want to tell me what's really bothering you?"  
Lana tensed up in his embrace and he felt a new knot of misery start inwardly, only this time it wasn't his pain. But she didn't withdraw from him. She drained the small vessel in her hand then quietly and shakily said, "You saw what I became."  
"I did." He snagged his cup before he gently guided her away from the window to one of the chairs in front of the small fireplace, sat down in it and pulled her into his lap, still being careful of the small cup. Sitting like this usually encouraged her to actually talk to him and if it didn't, the contact let him read her better. Though having her sitting up so rigidly wasn't exactly comfortable, "But that was just a particularly bad nightmare."  
Or was it? Urthemiel had implied otherwise when he said he'd prove more harm than aid. If those really were darkspawn, Alistair didn't think they could corrupt him in the Fade, but they might be able to trap his spirit and use that as a means to find his physical self to corrupt... What the apparent leader had said implied they knew Urthemiel had been reborn, but he hadn't sensed any Taint when talking to his son. But he had choked from the overwhelming presence of the darkspawn when going to Lana's rescue.  
"I thought it was, until tonight..." She was troubled, but now that she was thinking, he could feel the fear fading as she started thinking. Alistair casually handed her the still full cup, which she began to absently sip. Once done with her drink and now that she was thinking, Lana relaxed against him the way she normally would, in return he re-wrapped an arm around her to hold her close.  
"So, let's start from the beginning and see what we can figure from there." He wasn't the brightest soul in the world, but he wasn't stupid either and he knew that when the two of them thought things out together, they had a way of dealing with any issues that came up.  
She nodded thoughtfully, the motion causing her hair gently brushing the side of his face and his chin, "All right, what did you have in mind?"  
"Well for one thing, how long has this been going on?" Alistair had a good idea, but didn't want to make any assumptions.  
"Ever since I...woke back up on the day of your Coronation. I think the first time was a few days after that."  
So, it was as long as he was afraid of. "I'll admit to being a little hurt that you didn't tell me before this."  
"Oh yes, like I was going to inflict my nightmares on you about darkspawn turning me into some sort of horrible dragon-human hybrid thing to save them. Alistair, even you would've said that the stress of everything we'd been through was causing them."  
Put that way... He sighed, "You're right. I would've." He cast a shrewd look at her, "And I imagine that's what you've been telling yourself."  
"A combination of stress mixing with the vague memories I got from him."  
"Fair enough. So what is this 'song' it was asking you to save them from?"  
"I have no idea. My dreams run the same course each time. I wake up in chains and that emissary asking me to save them, but they don't want anything done about the Taint, just to free them from that song. As if I'm going to unleash intelligent darkspawn on the world."  
Just the thought of such made him shudder in fear and revulsion. "And what's this outcome it keeps referring to? And why does it keep changing you if nothing else changes? Isn't that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again hoping that something will change regardless of that fact it doesn't."  
"Well, we are talking about darkspawn. I don't think sane can ever be used to describe them, " she pointed out dryly.  
"Very true."  
Lana sighed, "As for the end of that fun little dream... Each time they purge me of the Taint of being a Warden and I change into that. Sometimes their touch corrupts me, most of the time it doesn't. But no matter what, I always turn on them and destroy them."  
For a moment Alistair was silent as he thought that over. Somehow he wasn't surprised that even corrupted Lana wouldn't bow down to anything she didn't agree to. "So do you know what happens after you destroy the darkspawn? And is it all darkspawn or just that bunch?"  
She looked troubled and he could it resonate between them, so he gently rubbed her arm in silent reassurance which earned him a wane smile. "I don't know if it's all darkspawn. Certainly large numbers of them. And only in the dreams where I'm corrupted that I see any kind of aftermath."  
"What happens after you're done with them?"  
Alistair wondered if he was going to get an answer when she fell silent and seemed lost in thought. Finally she stirred and he felt the return of her unease before she unhappily answered him, "I find and corrupt you. Then we destroy the world in our madness."  
That didn't surprise him, that in her madness she'd seek him out or that she'd corrupt him. He couldn't see himself ever being capable of striking Lana down. He was completely and utterly hers. Just as he knew she was completely and utterly his. Trying to soothe her, he said with as much levity as possible, "Well then, we'll just have to make sure they don't get their grubby paws on you."  
She smiled, even though she still looked haunted and hugged him tightly, "I love you."  
"And I, you. More than words can say." He ran his hand through her tangled hair, "Wynne will be here in a few days right?"  
He had to give his love credit for finding a way to make her purification by fire idea for the estate feasible. He'd been able to agree to her getting Shale to sweep through the dungeon while the golem used her strongest fire crystals and Wynne making sure nothing untoward had happened. It had been unexpectedly easy to locate the two, they were at Kinloch Hold studying the library about their mysterious project. And had sent word that they'd be willing to help Lana since they weren't getting anywhere with their research. Both had laughed at Shale's postscript to Wynne's message informing them of when to expect their arrival, "This place is for the birds."  
"Yes, why?"  
"I want her to check you over, just in case. Then have her help me ward the chambers."  
She frowned at him, he glared back. "Something is invading your dreams. I doubt that they're from demons because they can't seem to get a good grip on your mind. So it's really intelligent darkspawn, or some sick bastard of a mage that's trying to do something to you."  
Lana let her head sag back onto his shoulder, "And you haven't sensed any spells cast on me directly?"  
"No. But if they're doing something in the Fade, I may not be able to detect it. And in order to set the wards I know, I need the help of a mage. Wynne is the only one I can trust, though if Morrigan were around, I'd rather her instead."  
That made her gape at him in astonishment and he smiled grimly in response, "Just because we utterly loathe each other doesn't mean we couldn't work together to help you. You're probably the only friend she's ever had. Or only one who became her friend just because you liked her for some unholy reason and not because you wanted anything from her except her friendship. At the end," he faltered for the moment, feeling guilty for how he treated Morrigan over Lana's unconscious form, "At the end she was motivated more by that friendship than she knowingly let on."  
Alistair ran hand through his hair, making the rest of it stick up, "As for why I'd want Morrigan and not Wynne for the wards... Morrigan is the more powerful mage."  
"Oh, well, you do have a point there."  
A small smile crossed his face at the way she said her reply, but didn't say anything as he held her and debated going back to bed. Except he could still feel the tension in her so he just continued to hold her and stroke her hair as soothingly as possible. At least she was settled against him in her usual manner so it was the normal pleasure to cradle her, rather than struggling against the rigid posture she had a short time before.  
"Alistair?"  
The bleak tone in her voice and feel worried him, but in the effort of trying to keep that worry from overwhelming him, he warmly asked, "Yes, love?"  
She spoke hesitantly, "Now that you've seen a part of what I am inside, are you sure..."  
He said in a lighthearted tone, "Hm, I seem to remember asking where the draconic parts were, well now we know."  
"So it doesn't bother you that I'm not...normal?"  
That earned a laugh, "Lana, I don't think anyone can ever accuse you of being normal." He turned serious when she didn't say anything, "I meant it when you woke up and I mean it now. You're still you, still full of that fire and ice that's tempered by a sweetness that you don't show to many."  
Finally that awful knot loosened, "What did I do to deserve you?"  
"It was your cooking of course."  
Now there was amusement coloring her voice, "My cooking."  
"Yep, you were the only one who actually used cheese in your cooking, instead of an after thought to the side."  
Her sweet, silvery laughter came as a relief, even if she did interrupt herself with a yawn. He grinned at the somewhat sheepish expression on her face. "So do you have any major plans for the day, m'dear?"  
"Other than Irminrick's Joining whenever he and Carlos arrive, no. Why?"  
"Is everything all right? It's been what? Almost two weeks since they headed out?"  
"Yes, Carlos sent a message saying they were going to Amaranthine to look into something."  
"Look into what?"  
She shook her head sleepily, "I don't know, he promised to tell me when he got back. It didn't sound that urgent so I didn't send anyone after them."  
"Mmmm, in that case, I think we can afford a day to sleep in. Barring anything untoward, of course."  
Lana looked thoughtful, torn over the prospect of sleeping in and her natural inclination of waking up early. Then she yawned again, jaw cracking slightly from the motion, "All right, I think you have a good idea."  
Before she could get could up on her own, Alistair took the cup out of her hand, set it aside then easily got to his feet with her in his arms. They smiled at one another as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he strode over to the bed. It didn't take long for him to get there and settled her down with a light kiss. "I'll be right back, love. I'm going to leave note for the very efficient Dee to make sure we aren't disturbed in the morning."  
As he walked over to the desk where they kept their writing supplies, Alistair felt her gaze settle on him. He glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned a little at the way she'd been watching him. She flushed a little, then wrinkled her nose at him, eyes showing more life. Smirking he asked, "See something you like, m'dear?"  
Eyes starting to sparkle a bit, she grinned, "Maybe."  
Trying to keep his almost illegible scrawl something the maid could read, Alistair hastily scratched out the brief message about letting them sleep until they were ready to get up on their own. He left the bedchamber long enough to leave the note where it'd be seen, then returned to the room to where Lana was waiting for him, sleepily tucked back up into bed. Easing off his pants, he crawled in beside her. He didn't need whatever it was he'd given Lana to fall asleep, all the excitement from both dreams had been exhausting.  
In their typical manner, they curled up together, as he was starting to drowse, Lana stirred slightly and murmured, "This time the nightmare was different."  
He cracked open an eye, "How so?"  
She snuggled in against him, "You saved me."  
Smiling, he kissed her cheek, "As long as I breathe, I will always try to save you."  
"Seems you spend a lot of time doing that."  
"Not as much as you might think, m'dear. I seem to remember you saving me more than once."  
"Then I guess we'll just have to keep saving each other." Lana twisted around to lightly kiss him. He could still taste the faint hint of honeyed liqueur on her lips. She gave him a small smile, "Good night, my heart, sweet dreams."  
Alistair kissed her back, "And you as well, m'dear."  
When they fell asleep wrapped up in one another's arms, they slept. Long, deep and dreamless. Or if they did dream, they vanished in the warm, bright, morning sunlight.


	51. New Beginnings

Hands clasped behind her back as she stood in the office she used in the Warden compound in Denerim when acting as Warden Commander, Marlana tried not to glower at the fidgeting woman in mage robes that was seated before her. From where he stood to the left and behind her, Alistair did glower at the mage with his arms folded across his chest. And with good reason. Studying the average features with dark eyes under dark brown hair neatly bound up in a bun, Marlana couldn't help but remember the last time she'd seen this particular mage, a memory that was particularly unhappy considering the mess she had to clean up at the time.  
A mess that this mage had helped create.  
Not quite ready to let herself get past irritation, even if her her lazy day had changed very abruptly to one where she actually had to do something due to the mage before her, ignoring the fact that there had been something else that had presented itself. She asked coolly, "Tell me, Moira, why should I accept you as a recruit instead of turning you over to the Tower?"  
Carlos, a swarthy Antivan that wasn't much taller than his diminutive Commander, yet was almost 3 times as broad due to muscle, his round head was topped by a faint fuzz of black hair hair, started to rise out of his seat, but sank back down at Marlana's glare. That didn't silence his protest, "But Commander -"  
"She was a part of Uldred's rebellion." He sharply inhaled at her matter of fact tone. They all knew the stories at this point, and now it was his turn to glare at the mage. Angrily he demanded, "Moira! Why didn't you tell me up front about how you knew the Commander?"  
"Because I didn't think you'd be willing to recruit me if I told you everything." He grunted in response, his face a stormcloud of anger and disgust.  
Sapphire eyes chilled, yet Marlana's voice remained even, "I suppose that's an honest enough of an answer. Though why did you wait over a year? You are aware that I would have recruited you at the time? Let me guess, you're coming to us now because the templars are after you."  
Moira bit her lip and looked away, her reaction made Marlana shift into a more aggressive stance with her arms crossed before her. In response both Alistair and Carlos went on alert, hands on their weapons, though they remained sheathed. For the moment. The mage's head snapped up, eyes wide in fear at the sudden hostility.  
A small corner of the Warden Commander's mind noted that the mage should be grateful that Oogie was spending the day at the castle. He might've done something the woman really would've regretted.  
"No!" She protested hastily, "Nothing like that. I... I felt guilty."  
A pale eyebrow arched up incredulously, "Guilty."  
"I did help with refugees during the Blight. Including some of the battles you had, particularly the Battle of Denerim."  
Marlana just continued to stare at her, while the men watched the Commander waiting to see her decision. Anyone outside of the Wardens would have been surprised that Alistair was following her lead in this. While he may have been King, he'd agreed to Marlana being Warden Commander which meant in this case he was just another Warden and so would wait for her decision.  
The dark haired woman squirmed under the very unfriendly regard of the three Wardens. Though her gaze was focused on Marlana, rather than the potential hazard of Alistair's templar training. The same small corner of her mind acknowledged that at that moment Moira probably would have preferred to be smote rather than deal with the continued interrogation, "I...wanted to know what life was like outside of the Tower, which is why I swapped places with a dead templar and traveled for a time. Even it was during a bad time, it was still freedom. If a cautious one."  
Carlos scrubbed his face as he watched Marlana, she didn't have to look to the side to know Alistair was rubbing his forehead as she continued to wordlessly stare at the mage in front of her. Maker knew, she sympathized with the mages locked up in the Tower, she truly did. It was why she was slowly finding a place for the Shadow Circle Alistair had finally given his approval to. Even if some of the apostates she was in negotiations with decided to show up a week early when this particular individual did as well. If the blood mage hadn't arrived with Carlos and Irminric, she would've been highly suspicious of the time. Well, she was suspicious, just not as badly if the arrivals had occurred differently.  
Though it wasn't the timing that was making her give the sorceress a rough time. It was what Moira and her fellow blood mages did under Uldred's lead that gave Marlana the fits she was trying not to give into. It wasn't even the blood magic, while it was something she wasn't entirely fond of, it bothered her far less than it did when they cleaned Kinloch Hold out.  
No, what bothered Marlana was the willingness to sacrifice people the way Moira did, the lies to escape the Tower, and only now she was feeling guilty?  
"Why should I trust you?" Marlana asked bluntly, "So far everything you've said just keeps digging you deeper and deeper."  
The mage sagged a little and looked down at her clasped hands, "I know you don't believe me and rightly so. But I truly do want to help the Wardens, particularly after hearing that you don't have any mages at the moment."  
Unfortunately that was the reason why she hadn't tossed the mage out when she saw who Carlos had brought back with him and Irminric. The Orlesian Wardens hadn't brought any mages with them, neither had the Antivan contingent that had ended up staying to help rebuild the Ferelden Order. The Chantry exercised an iron fist when it came to allowing mages to join the Wardens since once a mage was a Warden, they were no longer the Chantry's to command by right of the ancient treaties signed during the aftermath of the First Blight. Treaties that were renewed after each Blight, including the recently ended Fifth. She'd seen to that personally. And had silently enjoyed watching the Grand Cleric try not to squirm at Marlan's steadfast refusal to change the treaties.  
Not that she hadn't tried getting some mage recruits through her contacts in the Mage's Collective, but none were interested. It wasn't that they were unwilling to help the Wardens, they were quite happy to provide magical healing or if there was a particularly sizable group of darkspawn was located and needed to be burned out. But none of them wanted to actually join. While they may not have known the particulars of the Joining, they were all smart enough to realize that Wardens didn't live very long, or have an easy life. Personally, she thought life as a Warden was far better than the life spent on the run from the templars, but to each their own.  
Sighing, she finally gave in to the urge to rub her forehead, "That is very true. All right, you can take the Joining when Irminric does." Her hand fell away she stared at the mage with eyes that made ice seem warm, "But if you do anything that makes me regret recruiting you, know that you'll wish it was the templars that were after you."  
Moira nodded mutely, eyes wide and skin suddenly pale. For once Lana didn't care if she scared the woman or not. There was something very not right going on with the mage, but she did need her. "You can wait in the other room with your fellow recruit."  
With a bob of her head, the woman hastily got out of the chair and left before Marlana changed her mind. Staring at the door the woman had gone through, she scrubbed at her face, "Maker, but I wish we were in a better position with mages."  
Neither man said anything, they didn't have to. She'd sent requests, and if it would have done any good, Marlana would've paid a visit, but the Circle kept putting her off citing that they were still recovering. So there were no spare mages to be had. She twitched her shoulders in annoyance. Well, she'd just have to make do with one dubious blood mage for now. Maybe she'd get somewhere with her Shadow Circle in the future. She turned to Carlos, "So tell me, how's your templar training going?"  
She mentally rolled her eyes at the way he started in surprise. Men. Really, did he think that Alistair wouldn't tell her that he was training the Wardens, and some of the royal guard, namely Tammrel and Edwards, in certain templar skills? Watching the Antivan Warden's expression, she realized it was embarrassment and a little guilt. One silver-white brow arched up, "Did you already smite her?"  
He flushed and looked down, "Yeah, but I swear it was an accident."  
Annoyance was replaced by amusement, "How you do you accidentally smite someone? I thought that was an act of clearly focused will?"  
To the side, Alistair made a suspicious sounding cough as Carlos now looked more like a little boy who'd been caught at doing something wrong, not the tough, scarred warrior she was familiar with. He was actually starting to blush a little, "Ah, well. See, it was like this. Irminric and I were dealing a band of darkspawn when Moira showed up. There'd been at least one emissary, and since I didn't know she was there and sensed her spellcasting..."  
Lana didn't bother to stifle her snicker. Alistair coughed a couple of times. Carlos grumbled, "You two are as bad as Irminric, he seemed to find the whole thing hilarious." Now Alistair did start chuckling and he sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, at least Moira wasn't upset when she came to."  
"So if Moira does prove to be a problem, you can contain her until she can be dealt with?"  
Carlos shivered a little at how easily she asked such a chilling question. It wasn't that he couldn't be hard hearted when needs must, it was just disturbing that a lovely, young noblewoman being capable of such things. He knew those too sharp eyes caught the reaction, but as always she didn't comment, but he'd gotten to know her well enough to know that she would take it into account when dealing with him. Which was a scary thought all on its own. And speaking of disturbing...  
"I can. But there's something else that I need to tell you."  
"The business you had in Amaranthine?"  
"Yeah. Well, partly. First part has to do with the warband we took out with Moira." It wasn't the tense look on his face that made her look at him sharply. It was the sudden burst of fear she picked up from the normally stalwart Warden. She waited to give him the time he needed to gather his thoughts. His cheeks puffed out as he sucked in a breath, then hollowed as he blew it out, "The darkspawn leading it, it sounded almost like it talked. And not the gibberish the emissaries spout when spellcasting. But I didn't understand what it was saying. After they were dealt with, I examined it. It had white face paint. I've never seen anything like it. Never heard of the like."  
Marlana could feel the blood draining from her face. There was some element of truth in her nightmares and wondered what else was true. Alistair didn't say anything as he placed a hand on her shoulder. All she felt from him was the rock steady resolve that he would make sure she would always have a safe refuge. She felt worry and concern from him, but it just made him more protective. She refused to let her fear rule her, so asked as businesslike as possible, "You went to Amaranthine to check to see if the others had similar encounters?"  
He nodded, "Yeah. None of the Wardens there heard of such, but they've been having strange dreams about strange darkspawn. But no real details."  
"Maker," she muttered and rubbed her temples. This was something she just didn't need. The Blight was over, dammit. Urthemiel had been redeemed, and even if he did pay odd visits to her in her dreams, they weren't horrible things. Quite the opposite actually, even if they had a tendency to baffle each other. She just hoped he'd visit Alistair more in the future. But the nightmares with the talking darkspawn... She'd hoped it'd just been the consequence of the events that occurred during Blight.  
Carlos nodded sympathetically, "You've been having the same nightmares, Commander?"  
"Yes, I didn't say anything considering that my Joining was at the beginning of the Blight..."  
"Not to mention what you went through?"  
She gave him a weak smile, "Reading my mind now?"  
"Hardly. Just what I would put it down to if I'd been having them."  
"So how long have the Orlesians been having the nightmares and didn't say anything?"  
"Just the last month, and it was all newer recruits who had their Joinings right before the Blight. Or possibly just at the beginning, so like you they chalked it up to that. Though some of our newest recruits have been having odd dreams, but nothing definite."  
Alistair's grip on her shoulder tightened slightly as she rubbed her forehead again. He asked, "Any word from the outposts in the south?"  
"No, Si-, erm Alistair. I have sent messages, but it's too soon to tell. After what we found, Vigil's Keep will be sending out at least Warden with each guard patrol, besides the normal Warden only patrols. Fortunately, there's been a steady stream of potential recruits here in Denerim as well as the Keep, so we'll have the numbers we need in the near future to try and track these things down."  
With a tired sigh, Marlana said, "Also send word to Weisshaupt, they may have records of something similar after the Fourth Blight and just didn't think to the let the backwoods cousins know." She brooded for a moment, "I think that's all we can do at the moment. At least on that matter."  
Carlos looked at her curiously. She mustered another wane smile, "Who gets to say what at the coming Joining?"  
He frowned slightly as he tried to figure out why she was asking, then it faded as realization dawned. Not only was Marlana the Commander, she was also the junior most member of the Order. At least in Denerim. Most of the new recruits had gone to Vigil's Keep to free up the experienced Wardens there, the rest had gone to help establish the new outposts that were being setup across the country. The next Denerim based Warden who was juniormost was Alistair, who was eyeing him warily. Carlos just grinned at his squirming Brother.  
This time it was the big warrior's turn to rub his forehead, "Maker, I hope this goes better than the last one I spoke at."  
As Lana brought the ingredients needed to make Avernus's version of the Joining ritual, something that had proven to be far more effective than anyone, including Avernus, ever expected, she wondered how Kallian was fairing in the meeting with the far too early apostates. The first of her "eyes and ears" was a bright woman who was proving to be very good at being able to deal with people from all ranges of society. Lana was still quietly amused at how quickly the "ignorant" accent that Kallian originally used had faded away. She did feel a twinge of guilt at putting the woman into such an uncomfortable position and resolved that she'd find some way of making it up to her.  
It was a good test for the first Crown spy though. And Lana had people she trusted to keep an eye on Kallian. Just in case.  
But first she had to deal with her new recruits. And this time was ambivalent about their survival.  
Normally that would bother her, but considering the way both of them had been foisted off on her in one way or another...  
At least she didn't want them actively dead.  
-oOo-  
Sitting in a private room of a tavern drinking beer while in a room full of antsy mages wasn't high on her list of favorite things to do, but Kallian had to admit to herself that at least it was good beer. And it wasn't like she didn't have muscle to back her up, though she was somewhat bemused that it was Marlana's watchdogs that had her back. Edwards had explained the Lady Cousland was off doing Warden things so he and his cohort, Tammrel, were not needed to watch over Marlana for the time being. Which explained the non-regulation arms and armor that bore no sign of the Royal Guard. But since this had unofficial Crown sanction, they were there to help keep the mages in line. So she sipped her beer while waiting for the mages to finish their hushed conversation and wondered how the two guards could keep the spellcasters from turning them all into frogs. Or worse.  
Finally the huddle broke up, and three men sat down across from her, while the rest remained at the back of the room.  
Interesting that it was two greybeards and a younger male that were chosen. One of the greybeards with the name that sounded more like one of her roguish compatriots than a mage, Neil the Diamond, with no evident reason for the name. His greying black hair fell in a windswept mess around a long face with a slightly weak looking chin, rheumy dark eyes and a nose that was a little too big for his face. Which only emphasized his roguish air in comparison to the more scholarly attitude she was familiar with from mages. His rather flamboyant clothing didn't help, but at least it wasn't the normal eye-searing colors most mages favored for their robes.  
The second greybeard looked the part of the elder mage, complete with long beard, obvious mage robes and staff. She figured that Darthmoor is what he chose to call himself and not something his mother saddled on him as a babe. If not, that would probably explain the somewhat sour expression, she could only imagine what he was called as a lad.  
She studied the youngest who had fair hair, blue eyes and nervous grin. James Stonefield seemed like a good, proper Ferelden name, but she wondered why the others kept calling him "Zombie". He didn't seem like one, or the type to summon up such disgusting things.  
None of the three took advantage of the pitcher of beer sitting on the table. Their loss, she figured.  
Neil took the lead by asking, "So let me see if I understand this correctly. We're being asked to form a Circle outside of Chantry, hm, oversight?"  
Kallian nodded.  
"So...how is that any different from the Collective?"  
"For one, it'll be a proper school and for another it'll have some Crown support."  
Darthmoor rasped in his wizened voice, "And how is that different from the Chantry run circle?"  
"The Queen says that as long as you don't summon demons or sacrificin' people or other such nastiness, you can do what you want."  
"She isn't the Queen yet."  
The elven woman shrugged irritably, "Semantics. Weddin' is less than a month away, King Alistair an' the rest of the high muckity-mucks already treat her as Queen. So she's the Queen."  
More staring then quiet muttering. Kallian went back to the beer, but didn't miss Tammrel's slight eyeroll or Edwards's elbow jab to the side of his fellow guard. She hid her smirk so she wouldn't offend the twitchy magickers. She was still somewhat bemused that she'd been trusted with this task so soon after accepting the role of being the first of the Crown's spies, no matter the fancy words the Queen used for the position. Then again it seemed the blighters showed up a week early and even Marlana Cousland could only be in one place at a time.  
The huddle broke up, and it was the not-zombie-like James who asked, "And no templars at all?"  
Edwards cleared his throat, "If I may?"  
At Kallian's nod, wondering what the guard was up to, the motley group all tensed and started looking around for the nearest exit. He just shook his head, a puzzled look on his face, "There will be guards for your protection. Some of them will have similar training, but with some major differences."  
An odd stillness fell on the room as they stared at him. He gave them a small smile that was unexpectedly reassuring on his normally gruff demeanor, "For one, they're going to be properly trained guards, not Chantry lackeys. And more importantly not addicted to lyrium."  
That little revelation stunned Kallian as much as it did a majority of the mages. At least that's how she was going to take the way their jaws dropped as being surprised. Somehow she wasn't surprised that the leaders seemed to already know. Or at least were hiding their astonishment better than the others. Edwards waited for most of the hubbub die down before continuing, "Again, the specially trained guards are for your protection. They aren't going to be standing over you in silent condemnation. They're there mainly for the students, because if they're anything like the guard trainees or squires, their aim might not be the best or might overextend in what they're trying to do."  
Tammrel gave Edwards a sly grin, "I'm surprised you can actually sit after that idiot planted an arrow in your ass last week."  
Nervous laughter filled the room as the would be Circle started to calm down. Neal cast a sidelong look at James and smirked, "Oh, we wouldn't know anything about youthful accidents due to exuberance, would we, James?"  
James sputtered, but didn't otherwise give the older man any satisfaction with a response as more laughter erupted, but this time much more natural and relaxed. There were a few more good natured jabs at "Zombie", but no real details. Kallian resolved that she'd get the story out of someone, it had to be a good one judging by the comments being made.  
Edwards flashed another brief smile in response to the joking and wait patiently for them to settle down. "The Queen's other thought is that if you have one of the guards with you if you decide to go traveling, you'll be less likely to be harassed by Chantry templars. It won't be required of course, but she thought it might be an idea worth trying."  
As some thoughtful conversation started up in the back of the room, James leaned forward, "So what is the planned location for this so-called Circle?"  
That was when she knew she had them. If they weren't interested they wouldn't want to know where they would be setting up. Privately, she was a little surprised at how fast they seemed to be agreeing the idea, but then again she suspected that they'd already made a tentative decision before showing up. They very early arrival was probably a test of sorts to see how they'd be welcomed. There'd been flashes of surprise when they got there to see her waiting for them with drinks and nibbles. She nodded, "You have two choices actually."  
"We actually have a choice?"  
Kallian couldn't help but smile a little at the amazed skepticism in James's voice or the wordless exchange between the other two men. "Yes, you do. I don't know if you've heard of Soldier's Peak..."  
She hadn't, until Marlana had given her the details during their hasty meeting that morning, but she wasn't going to let on about that. Disbelief shifted to intrigue and Darthmoor asked, "The Wardens are willing to let us live in their ancient keep?"  
"They are, it benefits both the Wardens and Ferelden to have a Circle that's independent of the Chantry." She didn't need to belabor the point about how the Chantry limited the number of mages available in general, including the Crown, even she knew about those restrictions. She was also aware of the distinct lack of mages in the Warden ranks. Knowing how hard it was to fight darkspawn, Kallian was sure the lack of magical healing must make an already awful job to something really horrible.  
"Out of idle curiosity, what was the other choice?" Darthmoor's question brought her attention to the present.  
"There's a small keep that's on the lands of the Peak that could be used, but it's not as big as the main building."  
Neal muttered, "I've been wondering what that old bastard Avernus has been up to anyway."  
He and Darthmoor chuckled as she and James exchanged confused looks. Not wanting to know what had set off the males like that, she shifted her attention to the other mages. Judging by the excited chatter, they seemed to be in favor of the plan. Well, at least her Queen would have one piece of good news today, even if things went bottoms up with the Wardens. James followed the direction of her gaze and smiled a little, "I think that the answer is yes."  
The two greybeards nodded. "It should certainly be an interesting experiment at least."  
"Good. The Queen will make arrangements to meet with you sometime this week to finalize the details."  
The three men froze and she frowned. She thought she said that right. "Is there something wrong?"  
"The Queen is going to meet with us?"  
She rubbed her thumb against the crease she could feel forming in her forehead as her frown deepened in confusion, "Is there a problem with that? She really did mean to meet with you if you hadn't shown up so early an' she didn't have her Warden business."  
Neal blinked, finally picked up the pitcher of beer to pour mugs for the three mages, "I thought you were saying that out of politeness and that you were always supposed to be the one to meet us from the beginning."  
She grinned, "The Queen is a hands on sort of person. If she says she's going to do something personally, she does. Provided there's no emergencies like today."  
They looked a little stunned and dismayed at that, so she left out the part that King Alistair had fully intended to meet with them also. She suspected that would've sent them running when it was really the Queen they had to worry about. Sure he was templar trained, and now suspected he trained the two watchdogs at her back in the same, but she'd seen the two royals fight. And the Queen was the scarier of the two. Hoping to ease the tension she finally gave in to her curiosity. She asked James, "So why do the others call you Zombie or Zombified?"  
He turned red and muttered something that even her sharp hearing couldn't pick up. Neal laughed, "Ah, now there's a prime example of why your guards will be needed for the younglings."  
"Oh?"  
He had a rather charming grin when relaxed. "Well, I wasn't there for it, but it was described to me in great detail. The lad had been learning an animation spell, something to make inanimate objects to move on their own."  
She mulled that over, "Something like that old story about the sorcerer's apprentice with the moving brooms and buckets and such?"  
He nodded as Darthmoor smirked and James squirmed. The other mages had fallen silent, but she could see their amusement, "Yes, something like that. He thought it would be a grand thing to show off at dinner. Only instead of causing his Enchanter's chair to dance around, it animated the bowl full of vegetables that was part of the evening meal. They grew little arms and legs, angry faces and started running around the table yelling 'Grrr' and "Arg!' exactly like zombies. Only they were miniature and vegetables."  
She couldn't stop the belly laugh that erupted at the image that conjured up. The two older men joined her as James grumbled, "I hate you all so much right now."  
Once she could breathe again without laughing, Kallian wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry, James, but that is funny."  
His glare didn't last long before he smiled ruefully, "Oh, it is now. And at least I didn't blow anything up. Unlike certain other mages."  
Darthmoor had a suspicious twinkle in his eyes while he said far too blandly, "I wouldn't know what you're talking about, lad."  
That caused even more laughter, and all of those gathered started to share stories about amusing mishaps that happened even to experienced mages as drinks were poured out and shared. Even though she didn't fully understand all of the jokes, she was able to understand enough to join in the laughter. When she shared some anecdotes about some of the scamps in the Alienage she saw an odd sort of hunger in the eyes of some. It puzzled her until she realized that they never had the opportunity for what she considered to be a normal childhood. They'd either been locked up in that horrible Tower or on the run. Life in the Alienage was hard, but she'd had her extended "family" that consisted both of blood relatives and close friends.  
The mages before her never had that. Which prompted her to raise her mug, "I'd like to propose a toast."  
They looked at her curiously and she smiled, "To new beginnings."  
"To new beginnings!"  
-oOo-  
It was the moment of truth.  
Solemnly she set the battered silver chalice down on the small table at her side, careful not to let any of the contents slosh around to spill over the edge. Marlana was fairly certain that it wouldn't damage the table, but it was best to err on the side of caution. No need to further upset the two recruits who were shifting on their feet and warily looking around the small room. Aside from the Wardens lining the wall in silent witness, the table was the only piece of decoration in the plain stone room.  
Plain stone for just in case. Her own Joining had been proof of why they needed to be prepared for such contingencies. Though thank the Maker there hadn't been many deaths from Avernus's brew and they had far fewer bodies to put into the oubliette below the compound. She studied the two for a moment before speaking.  
"The First Blight was a time of horror, worse than what we've seen in the now ended Fifth. For decades the darkspawn swarmed the land, their numbers ever growing and led by a seemingly unkillable archdemon. Soldiers who had known nothing but that terrible war met in Weisshaupt Fortress where they determined the means to combat their foul enemies. In the hopes of fighting fire with fire, they willingly took in the corruption."  
She paused as she studied the way their eyes widened in sudden comprehension, she remembered that moment well. The sudden sickened horror at what needed to be done. So far there was no sign of a blade being drawn or the crackle of a combat spell, that was a good sign.  
"So they drank of the darkspawn blood to take in the Taint and to make it their own. From that moment they were no longer Tevinter soldiers, but Grey Wardens. Though they died to a man in that last battle on the Silent Plains, they were successful in slaying Dumat permanently. With the archdemon dead, the darkspawn horde broke and they fled."  
Now they were eyeing the chalice warily, but neither displayed any sign of doing something stupid. Good.  
"I will be honest, what you are doing is a sacrifice that anyone not a Warden will ever truly appreciate. It is a hard, thankless task, even if for now the Wardens are honored in Ferelden now, gratitude does not last long. But you are not alone in this sacrifice. All of us who stand in this room have been in your position. This is a chance for a new start. No longer will it matter if you are mage or templar. You will be Grey Wardens and that is all that will matter to your Brothers and Sisters."  
Though quietly spoken, there was a fierce pride in her eyes as she spoke.  
"So in honor and memory of those first Wardens who willing paid that first, high price, we say the same words that were spoken at that first Joining."  
Alistair spoke without prompting, "Join us Brothers and Sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."  
While he spoke, she picked up the chalice, then offered it Irminric first when Alistair finished speaking. Despite her indifference, she did have a good bit of sympathy for his hesitation in accepting the vessel with its disgusting contents. But he accepted it then drank and managed to return the chalice to her before his other hand flew to this throat as the burning, poisonous blood wrought its awful effects.  
Kendrick and Delindro stepped forward to catch the collapsing man, then eased him to the ground. The older, grizzled man placed a hand on the fallen templar's chest, then nodded to her, relief in his eyes. Marlana closed her eyes and inclined her head as all diffidence faded in the face of a survivor, "Take him to the infirmary."  
That was one of the things she changed about how Joinings were done, besides using Avernus's version of the Joining mixture. No more laying on a cold, stone floor for however long for those recovering from their Joining, instead they were taken to the infirmary to recover on proper beds until they woke to their new lives.  
She held out the chalice to the mage, "Well, Moira? Will you accept this burden and make this sacrifice?"  
Moira took the chalice from Marlana and saluted her a little sardonically, "To a new start."  
It was Marlana who eased the unconscious mage to the floor. As two other Wardens carried her off to recover, the Commander watched them depart, chalice still in hand. She quietly murmured, "Don't waste this chance, either of you."


	52. Vigilance and Sacrifice

“It wants me to do what?” Shale asked incredulously.

Tucking a stray strand of silver-white hair behind an ear, Lana smiled at the golem that was staring at her. “You heard me. I need help clearing out the lower depths of the Arl’s estate of Denerim. Since Alistair has forbidden me from razing the place and I can’t get any mages to agree to burn out what’s been festering down there-”

“For once I agree with the mages,” the golem muttered darkly.

Ignoring the interruption, Lana continued, “I figured you would be the best choice after all. You don’t have to worry about getting sick, and your fire stones don’t tax you the way spells do the mages who cast them...”

The brilliant white light that shone from Shale’s eyes flickered as it was wont to do when she was thinking matters over as she gently toyed with the finely cut gems she’d been given as a gift from the slight woman seated before her. The massive fingers paused and the still disconcertingly mobile stone face frowned slightly. Lana smiled tightly, “They are a gift, nothing more. These on the other hand, are payment.”

She reached down to pick up the bulky package at her feet, placed it on the table between the two and rolled it out. Large, translucent stones, whose shapes were similar to those on Shale’s form, flared with their own inner light, their colors reflecting their elemental energies. 

“Augmentation stones, “ Shale breathed. “Masterwork no less. Very nice. Very, very nice indeed.”

Lana simply smiled and waited. It had been Varric who’d known of the dwarven craftsman who could make such items. That hadn’t surprised her overly much, the trader-bard had proven to be quite sharp at the family business, even if he claimed that he was a storyteller, not a merchant.

Finally Shale nodded and said approvingly, “You always did know how to bribe someone to go along with what you wanted.” She paused then studied Lana, who was struggling not to smile at the shift from It to You, “You never did say how you learned about golems using augmentation stones.”

Twining another stray lock of hair around her fingers, Lana gave her rocky friend an embarrassed smile, “The first ones I found looked like they would fit.”

The stony edifice gaped at her, “They...looked like they would fit.”

The silver-white mane bobbed in acknowledgement.

Shale’s mouth snapped shut with the faint sound of grinding stone and she shook her head with an even louder sound of stone rasping on stone. Finally she gave voice to a belly laugh. “Only you, Lana. Only you.”

The young woman grinned in return, it was good to have Shale around again, even if it was just for a short time. Finally the golem settled down, “So when do we go on this excursion and what revolting flesh-beasts are we going to encounter?”

“In a few days. I can promise there won’t be any darkspawn. If anything it’ll be undead, though Alistair and Irminrick have assured me they haven’t felt any tears in the Veil that would warrant such.”

Dark grey brows furrowed, “Irminrick, that name sounds familiar, but I cannot say why.”

“He was the templar that we rescued from Howe.”

“Ah,” Shale’s expression cleared, “the flesh creature whose brains were mushier than most according to the painted elf and the odious dwarf.”

Lana shook her head in bemusement, “Well, not quite as mushy as they were now that he isn’t suffering from lyrium withdrawal.”

“Lyrium withdrawal? No, wait, I do not want to know about this latest vile habit you humans have.”

The comment earned a thin smile, “It’s nothing new, but I suspect you really don’t want to know the details since it involves the Chantry.”

Even though she should have been used to it, Lana was still amazed at how Shale managed to wrinkle up her face in disgust. “You are right. Very well then, let us discuss more pleasant things. Such as squashing pigeons. The head gardener of the palace was happy to see me since he’s been having problems with those winged pests.”

Smiling, Lana was happy to listen to the golem ramble on, it was incredibly good to be able to talk to someone who didn’t have yet another problem that needed to be solved.

-oOo-

“Hello Alistair,” Wynne said with a warm smile as she stood from the chair she’d been lounging on and reading while waiting for him. Sunlight poured through the windows behind the chairs, not so gently heating up the area. The elderly mage may have joked with Lana about using a lap throw by the fireside, but the truth was that her old bones did feel the cold more than she liked to let on. So sitting in the warm sunlight was a compromise between age and dignity. 

Because there’d been time to bask in the warm light (she refused to acknowledge the comparison to a cat basking), Wynne was able to get up and out of the chair with a minimum of fuss. Something she couldn’t always claim when in the cold, stone tower the Circle was housed in.

Seeing his adopted grandmother, the big man beamed as he carefully hugged her, trying not to show his concern at how frail she felt. The time spent on the road had been hard on them all, but particularly on Wynne. Though she tried to conceal it. “Wynne! It’s so good to see you. Are you okay? It took you longer to get here than Lana thought it would take.”

“I’m fine, it was the stop you asked us to make that took so long.” She gave him an arch look, “So what was that disturbing thing you had me get anyway?“

“A gift for my lady.”

“Alistair Thierin, what are you giving her?”

“That’s for Lana to say after she gets it.”

Wynne frowned at him, concern in her eyes.

“It’s fine, Wynne, truly it is. It was made for her only so its not going to like anyone else.”

The frown deepened then abruptly disappeared, “On second thought, I don’t want to know. Likely even after you give it to her.” She slanted him an odd look, “Do I want to know why there’s so much activity at Soldier’s Peak?”

Alistair gave her a sunny smile, one he’s gotten used to using as a means of disarming people. Even the ones who knew him. “You’ll have to ask Lana about that also, since the Peak still belongs to the Wardens, that’s her purview..”

Wynne shook her head as she settled back down in the comfortable seat while Alistair sat down in the one opposite hers. “The fact the two of you are now in control of the country is a terrifying thought at times.”

“Only at times?” He grinned, “You obviously haven’t listened to any of the Bannorn about who they think really is in charge.”

“I haven’t, nor do I plan to do so. The Circle’s politics are bad enough, I have no desire to get involved with the politics of Ferelden as a whole. And before you start in about the Landsmeet, dear, that was your future wife’s doing. She has a remarkable talent for stirring things up.”

Laughter lit up his face, “Yes, she does.” 

Then all amusement fled as he remembered why he wanted to see Wynne in private. Concern furrowed her forehead, “Is there something wrong between the two of you?”

“No, nothing like that. Just...” Alistair trailed off, not sure just how much he dared tell Wynne. There were some secrets that even the Wardens didn’t know that he wasn’t about to tell anyone else. Even dear pseudo-grandmothers. He sighed and shook his head, “Some of it is Warden secrets. But she’s been having nightmares. Worse than usual.”

Wynne raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Lana having nightmares was nothing new, she never came out and said it, but she’d been having nightmares even before her Joining. During the Blight, nightmares that were just darkspawn were actually restful for her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alistair muttered to himself for a moment. “I ended up seeing one of her nightmares.”

Now that got the mage’s attention, “Seeing one of her nightmares? What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly that, I found myself in one of her nightmares. We have a strong...bond. Stronger than most Wardens, but it’s not something that would let us share dreams. So the only way that could happen...”

“Is if it were a mage or a demon. Yes, I see. And you obviously didn’t find anything with your abilities?”

He shook his head, frustration and worry in every line of his body. She leaned over and patted his hand, “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll figure out what’s going on and take care of it.” 

Wynne smiled at him warmly as his worry shifted to suspicion, “After all, look at everything else you’ve accomplished.”

Alistair rubbed his forehead, “You’re right, you’re right. Anyway, I have two requests. One is your help in setting up wards in our rooms.”

“And the second?”

“That you examine Lana, just in case.”

“Both are easy enough, and I had been planning on checking her health anyway. All the abuse she’s put herself through, not to mention that battle with the archdemon...”

The big man’s relief was an almost physical presence in the room. Wynne patted his hand again. “So where is your bride to be anyway? I know she and Shale were chatting about something, but I’ve seen Shale out in the gardens without Lana...”

He grinned, “One final meeting with a dwarven biographer.”

Wynne blinked at him, “You’ll have to explain that one.”

Delighted at talking about a happier subject, he settled down to explain a little of the deal worked out with Varric Tethras and his fascination with Marlana’s background, not just the events of the Blight. By the time he was done, they were both laughing at the young woman’s mock dismay at dwarven bard’s fascination with her history.

-oOo-

“Amazing, my lady, just amazing”, Varric sighed happily as he set his quill down and lightly blew across the page he had been taking notes on, to dry the ink before carefully setting it with the others in the stack at his elbow.

She smiled at him, quietly amused that the normally irreverent dwarf was being so deferential, “I thought we agreed you’d call me by my name?”

He smiled in return and spread his hands in a silent “What can I say?” gesture.

“Since you seem to be done grilling me about things I barely remember, what are your plans now?”

“Go home and face my brother’s wrath”, judging by the smile on his face, it seemed to her that he wasn’t worried about said wrath.

A single silver-white brow delicately arched up in questioning manner.

He smirked, “My brother is going to rant and rave that I cost him a fortune in my deal with you and Alistair. Then once he’s out of hot air, I’ll point out to him that he still made more of a profit than he otherwise would, and in addition to that, he’ll have the goodwill of the Ferelden Crown. Since you aren’t the typical useless nobility that I see in Kirkwall, that’s a good thing.”

She grumbled, “I wish it was that easy for me to talk my brother around like that.”

Varric chuckled, “Ah my dear Marlana, the difference is the fact you are his little sister. Males tend to have very strong protective instincts of their female relatives. Doubly so when the female in question is much younger and has been hurt by said male’s actions, even if that was hurt was unintentional and many years ago. Triply so when you’re his only relative.”

“Not the only, we still have some cousins.”

“Are they all that close?”

Lana thought about that and sighed, “You have a point there.”

He nodded, with an oddly serious expression, though there was a suspicious glint in his eyes, “I have a very large family, so I learned family politics pretty quickly. Besides, I’ve annoyed my sisters a time or two by being protective at the wrong moments.” He rubbed the back of his with an amused, chagrined look on his face, “I learned quickly that women really are the ones that a man should be afraid of.”

Sweet, silvery laughter made him grin broadly in return. “I will admit, Marlana, there is one thing I’ve been curious about and hope you don’t me asking.”

“Oh? This should be interesting. Go ahead.”

“Why didn’t you dye your hair when you were on the road during the Blight? It is fairly distinctive.”

She blinked at him, “I thought I said so before this.”

He shook his head, “Only that you kept it long because you didn’t want to butcher it on your own and none of your companions were willing to help. And you had a justifiable paranoia about having a stranger near you with a sharp implement.”

“Oh, well. My hair doesn’t take dye. I tried dying it at an early age, the dye just slid right off.”

The only other time she’d seen him so shocked was when she’d told him about broodmothers. At least there was no sickened horror mixed in with the surprise. He boggled at her, that was the only way she could describe that look. 

She shrugged, “It’s something I got over a long time ago. And if the situation requires it, I can wear a hood. Though I prefer not to since that generally makes things too warm for me.”

“Fascinating.”

“And no, you can’t have any”, her smile took most of the sting out of her words, but she didn’t like the speculative gleam.

Varric look startled, then waved her concern away, “It’s nothing like that. I was just thinking over a favorite saying I had about heroes and realized most of it doesn’t apply to you.”

“I should hope not, since I’m not a hero.” She hesitated and her curiosity got the better of her, “But what is the saying that you had in mind?”

It was a familiar argument between them, one that the bard wasn’t going to get engaged in. He smiled as he said, "There's a recipe to a good hero, it's like alchemy. Take one part down to earth, one part selfless nobility, two parts crazy fool, and season liberally with wild falsehoods. Let that percolate through a good audience for a while, and when you're done, you've got your hero".

“Only two parts crazy?”, she asked with amusement. She remembered all of the times at least one person questioned her sanity, including herself.

His smile shifted into a sly grin, “Well, maybe in your case a bit more than two parts. Either way though, the later part doesn’t apply since what you did is beyond any kind of falsehood, wild or not. And I can tell you that none of those who had heard any of your story came anywhere near to sounding as amazing as what you did.”

“I really wish everyone would realize that I didn’t do this alone. My friends deserve recognition for their actions.”

“Don’t worry, I at least will make sure that their stories are told as well. At least the ones that you had permission to share.”

She smiled again, this time warmly and didn’t miss the faint blush that it caused, but she didn’t comment on it, “Thank you, Varric. I think you’re the only one who is willing to do so. And if you’ll excuse me, I have someone else that I need to meet with.”

He got to his feet and flamboyantly bowed, “Of course, my lady. It truly was a pleasure to meet you. And if by any chance you ever do travel beyond the borders of Ferelden, know that I would be happy to host you for a night of drinking and revelry at the Hanged Man in Kirkwall.”

The always unexpected dimples flashed as she grinned, “Be careful, I might hold you up to that promise, I may be the Queen in a few weeks, but I’ve learned to never expect life to be set in stone. I might just find myself travelling outside of the country.”

They chatted for a few more brief moments before she left the room, leaving Varric staring in her direction. “My lady, you may not think so, but you are a hero. You didn’t just save Ferelden from itself and the Blight. You saved the whole damn world from the Blight. And lived to tell the tale when no other Warden ever survived that sacrifice and got your prince. I look forward to hearing what antics you get up to in the future, since you’re not the type to rest on your laurels.”

-oOo-

Alistair hated waiting at the best of times, though he learned how to be patient a long time ago, but he still hated it. It was even worse when he found himself banished to the sitting room of his own suite while Wynne examined Lana. The healer was quite adamant that she didn’t want him there to cause any distractions. So he tried to go over minor correspondence that Giles, his secretary, left for him to look through.

But he couldn’t keep still and ended up pacing slowly around the room. 

When he felt the numb horror coming from Marlana, he decided that even if Wynne didn’t like it, he was going in. However the older woman was already on her way out of the room, for the first time he’d known her, Wynne actually looked old. No not old, almost ancient.Tiredly she said, “Whatever you do, Alistair. Don’t let her give up.”

Stricken he stopped, “How...how bad is she?” 

Another tired sigh, “She’s the picture of perfect health, at least for a Warden. But there are other matters that are best discussed privately between the two of you.”

“What is it?”

She shook her head and shooed him, “Lana needs you now, it’s best to let her explain.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation as he debated trying to get more answers out of Wynne, not wanting to upset Lana anymore than she already was, but the mage was already heading towards the door to leave. Frustrated and worried, he ran his hands through his hair and grumbled. Dropping his hands and squaring his shoulders he entered their bedroom.

Lana stood at the window, arms wrapped around herself and tears silently pouring down her face. As he started to come to her she shook her head, “Best don’t, not until...not until I tell you everything.”

“Lana...” He hated it when she drew away like this, she knew it too, but he realized it had to be bad if she didn’t come to him or let him come to her. He learned that if she thought it was something that was going to hurt him, she started to push him away in the effort to protect him.

She scrubbed her face with both hands, shoulders bowed, “I...it’s better this way. And...and probably better that we know now before...”

“Before what, sweetheart?” Without being able to hold her, he could only try to coax her as gently as possible. Generally if he managed to hold her, she’d relax enough to let him pick up more through their emotional ties. And use those same ties to try to soothe her.

Pain filled silence stretched out between them, finally Lana straightened and turned to face him, not allowing herself to hide and keeping back any further tears. “I was pregnant.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “Was?”

Grimly, she nodded, “Was. A-a few times.” She bit her lip, sucked in a deep breath and let it out as his stunned mind tried to understand what she was saying, “Since I...woke up I haven’t been taking precautions because I thought we’d need time to...well. Well, let me, er, catch if you want to put it that way.”

Another shaky breath, “The dreams...well, Wynne isn’t sure if the dreams caused the losses, or the losses caused the dreams, or if they’re not related and my body was...rejecting the... At-at least,” She swallowed, now unable to meet his horrified gaze, “At least it was before...they developed very far...”

It was too much, the pain he felt and more worriedly wasn’t picking up from her, so he ignored her protests as he quickly strode across the room to hold her. When she didn’t hold him in return he backed up enough to look down at her. She still didn’t meet his eyes, “It’s not too late to...”

“To what? If you’re going where I think you are, stop it right now. I’m not giving you up now, not when we need each other the most. And don’t you dare start in about being nothing but a killer.”

He gave her a little shake before pulling her back to him, ignoring the wide eyed look of astonishment as he did so. “The more experienced Wardens were pretty clear about what happens if a Warden and non-Warden try to have children. If they’re successful, what’s born, well, it’s better that it wasn’t. If everyone is fortunate the babe doesn’t live long. If you want to call it a babe that is.”

Now she put her arms around him as the tears started to soak through his tunic and the shirt beneath it. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, “Wynne seemed to think that not all hope is lost.” There was a soft sniffle, “She’s going to Tevinter with Shale after the wedding, said she’d see what they have. Wynne seemed to think she might find something of use there.”

Shale? Going to Tevinter with Wynne? At first he thought that was a question for another time, but they both needed a moment to step away from the awful news that had been delivered. “Why is Shale going to Tevinter of all places? And with Wynne no less?”

“They didn’t tell you?”, Lana asked in a watery voice, but he could feel her gratitude at the distraction. 

“No, they didn’t. I’m a little afraid to ask now”, he joked weakly.

“Shale decided she wants to become a dwarf again.”

It was almost too much to take in, “Wow.”

He could still feel the tears, but now he could feel the faint smile as she shifted into a slightly less awkward pose for them, “I know. That was my reaction when she told me before going to the Tower with Wynne. They wanted to see if they could find anything here before going on such a long trip, I guess they found a few hints here and there, but nothing definite. But Tevinter being what it is...”

Yes, he thought, if there were mages that might have solutions for both Shale and them, it would be the Tevinter ones. Even if the thought of using their knowledge turned his stomach. But that didn’t matter. He learned in the Blight that you took what allies you could to accomplish your goals. Alistair knew she wasn’t happy about the prospect either, but she was a far more practical soul than he. He just hoped it wouldn’t involve blood magic, that kind of taint would be worse than what they had in their blood as Wardens.

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

Lana’s arms tightened around him, “I love you too.”

“Just don’t give up, m’dear. On you, on us. We succeeded where no one else expected us to, not even us. Remember that. We will get through this and find another victory against all that’s happened to us.”

Another sniffle, “You say that like you believe it.”

“That’s because I do.” He shifted his position so he could lift her chin up so she’d look up at him, then gently ran a calloused thumb under one eye, then the other to wipe away the tears before lightly kissing her on the lips and murmured, “We’re still young, there’s no more Blight, so there’s no war on the horizon. Yes, I’ll need an heir eventually, but we have time. I don’t want you harming your health in the attempt to fix a problem that doesn’t exist yet.”

She smiled weakly, “Mother always did say I had a tendency to borrow trouble.”

Alistair snorted, “That’s putting it mildly. Will you be all right for a few moments? I have something for you. It may not be the best time, but I think you’ll like it.”

The baffled look was priceless, “You don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

“Well, okay then.”

“Good, I’ll be right back.”

He could feel her confusion as he left their suite to go to his office where he kept things he wanted to be secure without putting them into the treasury. It also gave him a little time to think and clear his emotions. At first he’d been shocked that Lana wasn’t aware she was pregnant when she was normally so aware of things, until he remembered how difficult her female time could be. A mental snort at that. Difficult didn’t even come to describing the pain she could go through. There was also the fact she wasn’t exactly on a regular course. Not that he was all that aware of such things until they became intimate. Oh, he knew that women had a time of the month that could put them out of sorts, but no real details. That is, until his love decided it was time to educate him on matters.

That had been an...interesting conversation when Lana had to sit down and explain what the problem was the first time that “time of the month” started after they started to share the same bedroll. He’d been worried that she’d been injured worse than she’d been letting on from one of their many skirmishes on the road. So judging by the timing, she hadn’t caught for very long since there’d been no delays that either would have noted.

Alistair got to his office, unlocked and opened the safe, then pulled out a long, wide, not very deep box. After making sure the safe was secure again, he began to walk back to their rooms, still thinking. That she had caught was encouraging in a way. It meant that maybe, just maybe, if Wynne, or even the Wardens, could come through, they’d be able to have at least one child. And it wasn’t just to have an heir, he truly wanted a child, boy or girl he didn’t particularly care, to raise with the woman he loved. 

The losses still hurt though, and he hoped she wouldn’t think he blamed her, though Maker knew, she’d blame herself enough. It wasn’t the fault of either of them for being Tainted as Wardens. A thought struck him as he remembered Wynne’s comments about the Peak. As much as he detested the ancient mage, he’d write a discrete letter in the hopes that Avernus might have an idea or two. After all, the man had spent over two centuries experimenting on the Taint, and hadn’t they seen more Wardens survive the Joining using his methods? And if he could help them have a child, it might mean that other Wardens in the future might have a chance to have families if they so desired. And it would mean a way of the old bastard being able to redeem himself after all.

Knowing there were options for the future, he settled down on trying to cheer them both up. It wouldn’t lessen what happened, but he wasn’t sure how many more emotional blows either of them could take. He also hoped that he wasn’t putting his foot in it again with her with the gift he was bringing. 

When he returned, she was sitting by the window she’d been standing by, her eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy from the crying, but the tears had stopped for the moment. Even though it was faint, the small smile she gave him when she saw him did lift his heart somewhat. It helped even more to realize that she wasn’t trying to shut him out either. So maybe they both needed that short break. Even though he hadn’t been gone that long, or so he thought, there was a tray of “nibbles” at the small table nearby. Following his gaze, she gave another wan smile, “Dee.”

That was all she had to say, for all that the maid was around Lana’s age, the woman had some serious mother hen instincts. At least when it came to Lana. And if Dee put a bug in Agatha’s ear... He eyed the contents of the tray, she likely did. The cook was even worse about both of them than the maid. Then he saw the curiosity warring with grief in Lana’s big, blue eyes and felt a little more relief. Visible curiosity was a good sign.

With a smile and a flourish he presented the deceptively simple looking box with a dark cherry finish, its top was embossed with a griffin in flight carrying a rose in its talons. She ran a hand over the detail before opening the box. The gasp of surprised delight was everything he could have hoped for.

Nestled inside were two long, thin swords. One blade was dark blue, almost the same shade as her eyes when she was angry, with delicate silver tracing, the other the red of freshly spilled blood with golden tracing. Both had hilts made of bone wrapped in leather, bone and leather that matched the armor he wore on his coronation day, or any other ceremonial event. Like the armor, there was nothing ceremonial about the two swords despite the fancy appearances. Both were meant to be used.

She whispered, “Thank you, my heart, this is... There are no words.”

What he could feel from her made up for the lack of words. He cleared his throat, “I hope you don’t mind that I named them.”

“Why would I mind?”

“Because they’re meant for your hand. Well, hands, only.”

“And you’re the one who wanted them made, right?”

He nodded.

A weak smile, “Then I don’t see why I should be upset. What do you call them?”

Alistair shuffled a little and made an awkward gesture with his hands, before placing his hand near, but not on, the blue one, “This one is Vigilance, so that you will always have something that you can trust to watch over you. The other is Sacrifice to mark all that you have sacrificed in the hopes you never to make such again.”

To his horror she started crying again, he gently took the box away and placed it to the side before hugging her. She kissed his cheek, “I’m not upset with the blades, they’re perfect. You’re perfect and I love you so much.”

He tightened his embrace, “We will get through this, I promise.”

They would get through this newest grief, he would see to it. 

When they separated, Lana reached down to pick up Vigilance and frowned a little at the sound of parchment crackling. Seeing a scrap of such under the weapon, she lightly tugged it out, leaving the blade in the container, unfolded the worse for wear scrap, then chuckled softly at what she read.

Wondering what managed to get her to laugh, not that he was going to object of course, he peered at the note.

Warden,

Try not to break these like you did Starfang.

Mikhail Dryden

Torn between laughter of his own and getting annoyed at the smith, he groaned, “Oh Maker.”

“You have to admit, that does sound like him.” She peered at the scrap in her hands again, “And I think it’s singed in spots.”

A weak chuckle worked its way out, “It certainly does look like it.”

“They don’t look like they’re made out of just archdemon bone, though.”

“That’s because they aren’t. They’re made from the bone, yes, but also what we could find of Starfang and the sword that you used to slay the beast. It seemed...fitting.”

She smiled, this time something closer to normal, “It is. I just wish I had something as wonderful to give you in return.”

He mock frowned at her, “And how many times did you say during the Blight that you gave gifts because you could since you knew it would cheer that person up. And more importantly that a gift was something that you didn’t expect a return on? Hmmm?”

“You’re right, of course.”

He grinned briefly, then in a practiced gesture, scrunched into the chair with her so that he ended up holding her. As dusk settled outside, she shifted so she could rest her head on his shoulder and put her arms around him. Alistair rested his head his head against hers and in silence they grieved. And hoped that there might be better times in the future..


	53. Cleaning House

Warm, strong, clever fingers dug into the tense muscles in his shoulders then slowly worked their way to his neck. Sighing in relief, Alistair smiled a little as Lana lightly kissed his cheek as she continued to work out the knots. When she worked out a particularly bad cramp, he groaned in a mixture of relief and pain, “I think that’s enough, love. Thank you though.”

“You’re quite welcome.” For once she dropped a kiss on the top of his head, causing them both to smile a little. Figures that it would take him sitting for her to be able to do that. “So what’s got you all knotted up like that?”

He sighed again, this time out of discontent, and tried not to tense up and undo all of Lana’s work at relaxing him. “I got a letter from Orlais.”

Alistair didn’t have to turn to see the one silver brow arch up, he could feel her dry amusement without even trying. “A letter? I would’ve thought you’d gotten more than a few of them by now. If only from odious nobles trying to curry favor with the new ruler of the Dog-Lords of Ferelden. All in the misguided belief that they can somehow use you to regain a foothold in their ‘recalcitrant province’.”

Despite the harshness of her words, there was no rancor, only more of that dry amusement. He had to chuckle since he did indeed get more than one piece of correspondence with “offers” that were thinly disguised insults. Since he was still learning Orlesian, the eminently capable Giles did the translations for him, often using those letters as language lessons. More than once his secretary had varied from horrified anger to bitterly resigned amusement. Without saying anything else, Alistair handed over the two parts of the letter he’d gotten. Knowing her fluency in the language, he didn’t include the interpretation made for him, wanting Lana to make up her mind about the letter on her own.

The king within him had wanted to show it to her before this since he still trusted her opinion above anyone else. The man didn’t want to add any further burdens after the terrible news Wynne had delivered a few days before. Though watching her read through the papers thoughtfully, he regretted not talking to her about it before this. Which prompted another arched look in his direction over the document in her hands, but she didn’t say anything, instead going back to her reading.

Since she was taking time to go through the letter, he finished off the last of the minor tasks he’d put off to the side. She finally finished, set the papers on the desk then drummed her fingers on the edge of it thoughtfully. “I know who wrote the cover letter, even if she didn’t sign it.”

It was his turn to arch a brow curiously, “You do?”

“Mmhmm. Celene.”

“Er, the Celene that happens to be the Empress of Orlais.”

“That would be the one.”

He suddenly felt light headed. Not that he hadn’t gotten official correspondence from the Empress, but never in her hand, always in the hand of a court scribe. Of course his responses were written the same way since he wasn’t going to inflict his handwriting on anyone if he could help it. Particularly in such important matters. “How in the Maker’s name do you know that?”

“Remember the letters we found with Marric’s sword and shield?”

He nodded cautiously, in general he found it better that the less said about Marric around his lady the better. Not that he really wanted to discuss the man who sired and abandoned him, but Lana seemed to find the deceased king personally offensive. For some reason she blamed Marric for being the cause of the civil war that erupted when the Blight started. Since he had headaches enough as it was, he didn’t want how she came about that reasoning after the first time he asked what was apparently a bad question. The eruption had been interesting, though at least it wasn’t directed at him.

As offended as the thought of Marric might have been to Lana, it wasn’t as offensive as the letter from Eamon to Cailan about setting aside Anora in favor of another noblewoman. A letter in which he described Lana as a “biddable girl”. Trying to forget the verbal explosion from the first time she read that letter, he furrowed his brow as he tried to remember the other letters that were included. What was... Oh. Very slowly Alistair asked, “You still have them?”

In truth, he was more worried that she still had that letter from Eamon that pissed her off than the other potential political hazards that might be in those letters.

Well at least she was still amused, that knowing look in those sapphire eyes told him she had an idea of what he was concerned about. That was good, it meant he didn’t have to actually ask her about it. A faint smile twitched her lips as she replied, “As it happens, I do still have them all.”

Right, he would worry about Eamon’s letter for later, at least the man hadn’t started in on Alistair yet. Then again considering how he blew up at the Arl during Lana’s long period of unconsciousness, it was likely that the man wouldn’t bother the king for awhile. “So why do you think she sent the other letter?”

“There could be any number of reasons that she sent it, but it all boils down to one thing.”

He eyed her and finished her comment, “She’s out to cause trouble for someone.”

Lana gave him a frighteningly sunny smile, “And here you thought you’d have problems being king and playing politics.”

He grunted. Alistair figured out that a large portion of politics was one or more people out to cause trouble for others for their own gain. Only Lana had found that comment amusing during the meeting he voiced that sentiment. Once again he’d managed to horrify Giles, exasperate Teagan, and caused the treasurer to choke. He still hoped the choking was from trying not to laugh and didn’t upset the man anymore than he already had with some of his ideas.

She continued a bit more seriously, “I know it involves Orlesian Wardens, but quite frankly they’ve been up to no good for some time.”

“So much for Warden neutrality.”

She made an annoyed sound, “That’s a pretty line, but the truth is even Wardens are going to need to play politics regardless of any neutrality or not. And given what I’ve heard about Weisshaupt... well they play them far more than necessary. They’re doing the same thing we are in Ferelden, only we’re more honest about it.”

“Honesty in politics, what a novel concept”, he joked.

She dimpled at him, “It can be. That’s why I’ve been able to disarm people with it. They’re so busy trying to figure out what I’m lying about that I use the truth to trip them up. Of course I don’t tell them everything, but I prefer honesty than outright lies. Well, unless they’re demons, but I don’t think that counts.”

He just looked at her, not wanting to go anywhere near either of those comments.

She rested her head against his, “So any other emergencies?”

He mumbled, “Not really I suppose. What are you going to do about the information in the letters?”

“I’m going to wait and see what happens. Really, the letter was pretty vague about the details of whatever Plan these unknown Wardens and nobles are coming up with. And I don’t trust any of them farther than I can throw them, including Caron. Though he seems to be the lesser of the evils there.”

“Soooo why do you leave him in charge if you don’t trust him? And I thought you sorta liked him.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I fully trust him. It’s why I left Varel as Seneschal of Vigil’s Keep rather than hauling him up here to deal with Denerim. I trust him to keep an eye on things. And I’ve almost got enough Ferelden recruits to send the lot packing. They just need a few more months of training before I feel they need any more supervision than normal.” She absently rubbed at a scar on the back of her left hand, “We’ve been getting a glut of would be recruits. All those soldiers who served during the Blight one way or another, a handful of um, interesting associates I met during the Landsmeet, even a few more mages.”

His brain stuttered, there were times she told him more than he really wanted to know about what she was up to with the Wardens. They would always be his Brothers and Sisters, but he really didn’t want to know what they did before they joined the Order, especially the thieves and apostates. And it had to be apostates, because if she’d managed to talk the Chantry around to letting her have a few more mages she wouldn’t have been able to hide her glee.

Despite whatever shady background any of the recruits had, Alistair trusted Marlana’s judgment in who was accepted into the Order.

She dimpled at him again, and in the process managed to sidetrack him from more brooding, “Since we’re done with any potential international issues, let’s go to bed. You’ve been broody all day and that’s supposed to be my job.”

He huffed a laugh, “So I guess it’s time for us to get some sleep.”

Her smile turned sly, “Who said anything about sleep?”

Concern sobered him, but before he could give voice to it, she lightly placed the tips of her fingers on his lips, “I am all right, Alistair.” She placed the other hand over her heart without removing her fingers from his mouth, “Only my heart was wounded and that will heal in time. And, ah, I’m taking precautions again -”

This time it was his turn to lay a finger on her lips, he lightly kissed her fingers then moved her hand from his mouth, but kept hold of it, “Shhh. I understand, my love.”

He smiled as he got to his feet, let go of her hand and wrapped her up with his now free arm, “To bed then, but not necessarily to sleep.”

The next morning dawned bright and sweet for a late summer day. The customary heat hadn’t started yet and the winds blowing across the River Drakon didn’t have the usual stench. It was looking to be a good day to clean house. She mentally snorted to herself as she strapped her new weapons to her back.

What was now her estate in Denerim was hardly a house, but the sentiment fit.

Realizing she didn’t have to shrug her swords into place like she was used to made her pause. It felt like they had settled into place on their own. Granted, she knew they’d been made specifically for her, but still... There was a feeling of awareness of Vigilance and Sacrifice in a way she never had from Starfang even though there’d always been an energy to the blade that made it easy to wield.

But these were on a different scale altogether. Like most, she’d heard the cliche of a weapon feeling like an extension of its wielder, but had always put it down to bardic fancy. In these though, they did feel like a extension of her. Not just when using them, but even the act of carrying them. They felt like blood and bone. More than that, a part of mind and soul as well.

Not wanting to ruin the good mood she had from a beautiful day, she shrugged off the odd musings to head out where the rest of her party was waiting.

When she finally arrived at the private courtyard that she was using for her escort to gather, Lana stared at the small army that had gathered.

She fully expected Wynne to be there. The elderly mage had readily agreed to help with the cleansing. And Lana suspected it was for the mage to purge her own ghosts of the place. They’d had a long talk the night before while Lana waited for Alistair to pry himself out of his office. She hadn’t realized just how devastating it’d been for the mage when Lana had slammed the door shut on her companions the day Anora betrayed her to Cauthrien.

Or how it had affected Ogren and Zevran as well. Which made her regret not being able to contact them to see if they wanted in on her latest mad idea. Zev was still off somewhere in Orlais, and Ogren was off on his own business, so trying to get in contact with either was impossible.

She could still regret the fact though.

That Shale wasn’t there wasn’t surprising. The golem had already headed off before dawn not wanting to be part of the spectacle that was going to occur that morning. Lana thought Shale had been exaggerating about the spectacle, except this time she’d been right.

Lana had fully expected Edwards and Tammrel. But not another half dozen of their fellow guard. Her two guards gave her near identical looks of pure innocence. Which only intensified under her slanted look.

Standing with Kendrick, Delindro, and Irminric was Alistair in full armor with sword and shield. He simply smiled at her consternation, but didn’t say anything. Nor did he give off any clue about his actual intentions. Then again, since he was in his armor, that was all the clue she needed.

Of the four men, only Irminric had asked to join her when she was ready to purge the estate. She’d been expecting either Kendrick or Delindro, but not both. Which she supposed was foolish of her considering Kendrick’s blunt lecture about the Wardens feeling protective of her.

For a brief moment, Lana idly considered giving up her self-imposed restrictions on how far she allowed herself to sense Wardens and darkspawn, so she could’ve been forewarned about Kendrick and Delindro being there. Then she gave that up, there were too many Wardens in Denerim now, feeling them all moving about drove her to distraction.

Of course she’d known Alistair was down there, but she thought he was going to see her off, not join the not-so-little excursion.

It was also foolish of her to expect Alistair to let her do this thing without trying to guard her back. After all, every other trip to that blasted estate had him going along with her. Which she made her want to stab something. No, not stab, bite something. Stabbing was far too impersonal.

There was a disappointed murmur at the back of her mind at the change of heart of stabbing something. Which was troubling because it wasn’t her own thoughts. Nor was it from Alistair, whose grin faded slightly as he gave her a measuring look.

Trying not to scowl and feeling her good mood quickly fading, Marlana crossed her arms as she grumbled, “I seem to remember dealing with far worse situations with far fewer people. I don’t need an army to clear out one dungeon.”

Wynne smiled at her, “Well, my dear, you are going to be Queen in a couple of weeks. Besides being the big hero of the country. It’s your own fault, if you didn’t become such an important person, people wouldn’t feel the need to keep you out of trouble.”

The older woman’s gentle teasing restored Lana’s good mood and she laughed a little in response. Turning to Alistair she grumbled, “Since we have so many extra bodies, you’ve arranged transportation for them? There was a reason Shale went ahead, because we weren’t going for a grand procession.”

His expression turned a little sheepish, “Yes, dear.”

She stared at him for a moment, then slanted her gaze around those gathered when she heard a few muffled snickers. Though he kept his expression blank, she could feel his amusement. He’d definitely spent way too much time around her brother. Fergus had used that exact phrase the same way with Oriana.

Right at that moment a clatter started up just outside of the entrance to the area distracting her from her potential brooding. Huffing and puffing, face as red as his beard, Ogren came charging into the courtyard, Oogie right behind him. Lana stared in shock as the dwarf barrelled to her, then barely skidded to a stop before running her over, “See, dog? I’m not at all late. Good to see ya, Lana.”

Panting happily, Oogie came over and leaned against her, without thinking she began patting the top of his head. Even more surprising was the lack of stench rising from the dwarf. He still smelled faintly of alcohol, but not the miasma that threatened to knock out those around him.

Faintly, still not believing her senses, she said, “Ah, er, hello Ogren. Fancy meeting you here.”

He beamed at her, “What is it you surfacers say? A little bird told me that yer gonna finally clean out that rotten pile of bricks.” He paused and scratched at his chin thoughtfully, “Well, mebbe I shouldn’t call ‘er little, seeing that she ain’t. Or a bird. Ancestors save me if she thinks I’m calling ‘er a flying rodent.”

Ogren looked around nervously, “Uhh, none of you are gonna repeat that, right?”

“Not even I’m that mean, Ogren”, she grinned. “So how did you persuade Oogie to come along? He didn’t seem interested in this little jaunt.”

Dwarf and hound gave her identical sloppy grins, Ogren chortled, “Guys gotta have some secrets, Lana. Though I’ll admit I was surprised he came along. Considering how popular he is with the ladies there. If our positions were reversed, I certainly wouldn’t want ta give up such a cushy place.”

With a haughty sniff, Oogie put his nose up in the air indignantly causing Ogren to grin. Then the grin vanished as rheumy, green eyes fixed her with a serious gaze and he lowered his voice for her to hear only, “Truth is, I told ‘em where we’re goin’ and what yer plannin’ ta do.”

The hound made a quiet sound of agreement.

Lana was touched, but still... “Howe is dead. Cauthrien is off whipping the army into shape, Anora is off to Gwaren. And with Vaughn executed, there isn’t anyone involved with the place that can hurt me.”

Oogie laid his ears back as Ogren growled, “I may not ‘ave been with you an’ the others as long as some, but I’ve seen enough freaky shit with you durin’ the Blight to know that things ain’t that simple. An’ yer just deludin’ yerself if you think it’s gonna be a simple cleanup duty. Even yer pike-twirler knows it, though he won’t say nuthin’.”

“Ogren...”

“Don’t Ogren me, Lana. Nuthin’ ever is simple with you, though most times it ain’t yer fault. But one of the worst days of my life happened there. Ain’t gonna let somethin’ bad happen to you again.”

That Ogren of all people was expressing the same concern about the place that everyone else had finally sank in. She just wished she knew what was causing that concern since none of them had been able to put a finger on it. Even some of her new apostate recruits had gone to look at the place as a favor. They’d come out pale and terrified, but couldn’t say what the reason was.

Vigilance stirred.

Not physically, but in the back of her mind she felt its presence and it assured her that she would see what she would need to see. Sacrifice wordlessly assured her that any threat would be dealt with.

She kept the sudden fear to herself.

There’d always been a feeling of vague semi-awareness to Starfang, but not like this. Lana didn’t feel any hostility towards her from either of the weapons. There was a faint hint of reproach, as if they had sensed some of her fear and were offended by it.

Alistair came strolling over, a picture of nonchalance, but she didn’t need their bond to see the concern in his eyes. She shook her head slightly, not right now. He frowned slightly, then reluctantly nodded. Instead he casually draped an arm over Lana’s shoulder, “So Ogren, where have you been?”

The flame-haired dwarf crossed his arms and actually studied them for a change. He grunted slightly, then suddenly grinned, “Been helpin’ a friend of yers setting up her tavern. Well, more like her brewery, Felsi’s been helping with the tavern portion.”

Lana’s mind went blank, she didn’t know anyone setting up a tavern or a brewery. Or at least no one had mentioned it to her. While she was busy, she’d remember something like that. Alistair looked similarly baffled when she looked up at him questioningly.

“Har! I pulled one on you fer a change! You don’t remember a girl named Kaitlyn or her mite of a brother Bevin?”

Those two she remembered. At the time she’d felt a mixture of annoyance and sympathy for the girl. The two were close in age, but clearly raised very differently. Lana had been raised to be responsible and to be a leader at an early age, while Kaitlyn had been all too dependent on her mother. There’d been flat out annoyance at Bevin for running off and worrying his sister for nothing. The last she’d seen of the two had been after the night her small band had saved Redcliffe from the last raid of undead, she’d sent them off with some coin to find their way to Denerim.

If she were going to be honest with herself...she’d forgotten about them. There’d been a lot of people she met, and helped, during the Blight, and as good of a memory as she had, she couldn’t keep track of them all.

Brow creasing with thought, Alistair spoke for both of them, “They were the ones from Redcliffe, right? We chased down her brother while she was weeping and handwringing in the Chantry?”

Lana winced, “I thought you were more sympathetic than that.”

“I was sort of sympathetic, it was Wynne who went all grandmotherly.” He muttered, “If only they knew the real Wynne.”

Seeing the dwarf and his lady looking at him in amusement, but not saying anything caused him to clear his throat and say in a normal volume,”Glad to know that the money you gave her wasn’t wasted.”

Ogren chortled again. “Nope, the girl’s got a real talent with booze. In fact that honey whiskey I sent you is something she was experimentin’ with. Since I know Lana’s fondness fer sweets, I figured I’d try it on her.”

“Thanks, I think. But it was good, I hope she makes more.”

“She’ll be happy ta know that the woman she named her tavern after approves. She might name it after ya too.”

She didn’t need anymore surprises. Alistair snickered at her expression before asking, “Do we want to know what it is?”

“Aw, it ain’t so bad. She named it The Silver Rose.”

That was touching, yet she felt uneasy about the honor, but she didn’t want to dwell on it now. There was a disgusting pile of stonework that needed to be cleaned and she’d been delayed enough as it was. She gave Alistair a narrow eyed look, “I hope you’ve gotten the transportation ready?”

“Yep, the carriages are on their way.”

The three friends chatted easily, or rather Ogren, in a rather unusually garrulous manner, excitedly spoke of The Silver Rose Brewery and its adjoining tavern. Glad to see at least one of her companions finding a seemingly happy life, Lana smiled and listened attentively.

She needed all the good cheer she could get before going into the pit again.

Before she started getting too anxious to get going, the carriages arrived and Alistair proved to have put thought into the situation since the two of them had their own private carriage. Just as they started to head out, Alistair looked at her thoughtfully, “All right, what’s got you so spooked? I know it isn’t the disgusting chore we’re going to be dealing with shortly.”

“You know, you didn’t have to come, so you could’ve avoided the nastiness.”

He looked at her, “And you’re avoiding the question.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Vigilance and Sacrifice.”

At the back of her mind, she felt a gentle questioning. He frowned a little, picking something up. Either from her or the blades, “Ah, what was that? And what about them?”

“That seems to be my swords. What else did you give Mikhail to make them?”

“That is kinda creepy.” He thought it over her question and shrugged, “Just what I told you. The remains of Starfang, the slagged bits of the broadsword you used to kill the archdemon and some of the archdemon bone.”

Now the weapons seemed to be waking up and attentive to the conversation, which was getting beyond creepy. She rubbed the bridge of her nose again, then the center of her forehead where she could feel a headache starting to form, “I vaguely remember Leliana telling tales about cursed weapons being warped from laying on ground tainted by the blood of an archdemon. Maybe this is the opposite considering what happened? ”

He laughed a little uneasily, “Well, I did want a pair of legendary weapons for a legendary woman.”

She scowled and the blades seemed amused, then withdrew back into themselves. Alistair stared at the sheathed weapons that were leaning against the bench she was seated on. “That is really creepy, but they seem to like you.”

“Yes. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

He squinted at her, “I’m pretty sure it’d be a bad thing if they didn’t like a person.”

“True, but I never expected my weapons to start talking to me in my head!” She paused and said a bit more calmly, “Well, maybe not talk exactly. They send feelings, not words.”

Alistair rubbed his hand over his mouth as he thought that over, “I’m sorry.”

Lana stared at him in bafflement, “Whatever for?”

He nodded at the swords, “Them.”

“Oh, Alistair. You don’t need to be sorry. “ She swayed with the movements of the carriage and reached out to pat his hand. “I’ll learn to deal with them.”

Her eyes narrowed at the sudden laughter in his eyes, “What?”

“Love, I think it’s more like they’ll have to learn to deal with you.”

They were both laughing at the indignation coming from both weapons when they arrived at the estate. And were hard pressed to contain themselves when Edwards blithely commented to the guards who were eyeing the royal couple warily, “Don’t mind them, boys. They’re a little cracked from the Blight and all.”

Quietly snickering to themselves, the two went into the estate, unable to ignore the horrified expressions on the guards’ faces. And deliberately ignoring Kendrick’s mock pitying head shake.

Shale was waiting for them in the Great Hall, brilliant, flame colored crystals set in her stony hide. She regarded them for a bit then shook her head, “I doubt I will ever understand flesh creatures. Especially you two. You’re more cracked than the rest of them.”

That did it. The golem sniffed in annoyance as the two leaned against each other as they laughed breathlessly at the fact the golem unknowingly used the same wording as Kendrick. It wasn’t just the new guards that were eyeing them warily, it was everyone except Ogren and Oogie. The two had all the appearances of conspiring about something, which didn’t surprise Lana at all. After all, the two of them were the reason Morrigan went through the camp in a rage. A rage caused by the fact all of her underthings were hanging from the branches of one of the trees in the area.

Of course no one could prove it, but they were the most likely source of the prank.

Her good mood restored, Lana went to the sealed door that went straight into the dungeon, rather than the one that had been the Arl’s bedroom. Shale stomped up and looked at the door with thinly disguised disdain. “They call that a sealed door? Even the dwarves come up with better.”

“That’s cause we do do it better,” Ogren grumbled as he studied the door while running his fingers over one of the braids in his beard. Curious, Lana asked, “What is it, Ogren?”

“This thing’s been sealed up since you killed that Howe blighter, right?”

“Near as I can tell, Vaughn had it sealed up as soon as he could. Why?”

“Hrrr. Not gonna be pretty then. You thought the Deep Roads was bad...”

She sighed, “Just how bad?”

He scratched his chin, “Mind you, I’m no miner. But on some of my patrols in the past it wasn’t too rare for us to come across a cave in that was sealed up pretty tight. Get ‘nough water and heat...”

Lana waited for him patiently, there was some nervous shuffling among the gathered Wardens and guards. Ogren mumbled to himself a bit, “Ain’t no delicate way of puttin’ it. There might be soup down there.”

“What do...” She trailed off as she thought about it, “Oh, that won’t be good. Somewhat like wine turning to vinegar if stored the wrong way?”

“As bad as that is fer booze to go, I’m thinkin’ it might be worse. ‘Specially if those hot springs that feed the baths at the palace are near here. Don’t rightly remember how cold it was down there, considerin’ that we were more than a little busy when we were there.”

Shale looked nauseated, if such a thing was possible for a being made of stone and lyrium, “So the disgusting flesh creatures have turned into even nastier dead flesh things?”

The silver haired woman gazed thoughtfully at the door, one hand cupped around her chin, the elbow of that hand resting in the palm of the other. Almost absently she said, “More like liquid, rotting flesh.”

The golem visibly winced while someone else started quietly gagging. “How very charming, if you soft things weren’t bad enough alive. I suspect it would probably be a bad thing for you to be standing right there if things are as awful as the sodden dwarf implies.”

“So it’s likely going to be as bad as that one trap of Caradin’s?” She remembered the room full of poison gas and angry, mindless golems that woke up when someone went to turn the valves off.

“Hrrr”, Ogren tugged at his beard again, “Worse. Though none of Shale’s pissed off kin.”

Worse. She really didn’t want to think about that. That gas had been pretty vicious. “Alright, everyone except for Shale should go back into the Great Hall.” As she walked away, she could hear Shale muttering about being the one left to clean up after the idiot humans, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t really blame her stony friend for that sentiment. Unfortunately, Shale was the best solution that she could come up with, since every mage that came into the place couldn’t stand being there for long.

A sidelong glance at Wynne proved that even that formidable woman was having issues as well, judging by how pale she’d gotten. Even Lana’s own “inner dragon” was stirring uneasily, but she couldn’t say what it was.

Both Vigilance and Sacrifice were on alert.

She should’ve worked harder on talking Alistair into letting her level this place and start over again.

Instead of dwelling on things she couldn’t change, Lana quietly made her way to Wynne, pitched her voice so only the other woman could hear her as she asked, “Are you alright Wynne?”

The mage was quiet so long, Lana wondered if the woman had heard her when she finally replied in a strained voice, “I don’t know, dear. There’s something about this place...and I can’t put my finger on it.”

Knowing what the answer would be, Lana still offered, “If you want, you can go outside for a bit.”

Wynne gave her a long measuring look, then smiled a little, “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your kind offer, Lana. I’m not going to let some nebulous dread scare me off. We have faced far worse together.”

Despite the situation, Lana found herself smiling back faintly, “You’re right, we have.”

From the doorway of the hall leading to the dungeon came the grinding sound of stone on stone as Shale drove her hands into the edges of the sealed doorway. There was a grunt, then a loud crash of heavy stone falling to the floor. There was a faint, but ominous sloshing sound in the distance. And a very loud buzzing.

“Oh, now that’s just wrong.”

Before anyone could ask Shale what was happening, a wave of putrescent stench came wafting into the room. Riding on the effluvium was a thick cloud of black flies, their buzzing filling the air. Lana kept from vomiting through sheer force of will.

During the Blight she’d witnessed numerous battlefields. Some were recent, with fresh bloated bodies of humans, elves and dwarves mingled with darkspawn. And if she thought darkspawn smelled bad when alive, they were that much worse after cooking for days under the sun and were particularly bad during the summer. One of the worst had been after the bodies had been laying about for days after several rain storms. They’d had a chance to soak up even more moisture to cook with before breaking open to release their slowly rotting contents.

The skies had often been filled with various carrion feeders, but those gatherings held nothing compared to the swarm that started to flow into the massive chamber and at the ground were roaches and other crawly things with way too many legs.

She’d also traveled through the darkspawn riddled Deep Roads that were covered in not just the disgusting, fleshy growths that started to form wherever there were great numbers of the Tainted beasts, but particularly foul, slime-mold.

But what came up up and out of that dungeon...it was beyond anything else she’d experienced in her life. It was beyond any paltry word her mind could come up with.

It was a bad situation when the normal reek of vomit was pleasant in comparison.

A gout of flame from Shale’s crystals dealt with the vermin with too many legs.

They could still hear the squeals of rats echoing up from the depths.

“Well then, wish me luck! I’m going down”, Shale called out, sounding absurdly cheerful given the situation. Including the fact there was a faint echoing splash as the golem entered the passage down to the dungeon. Then again, it was rare for Shale to be able to just let loose like she was in the current situation.

Lana would have said something in response, but she was saving her breath so she wouldn’t join the others in losing the contents of her stomach. She noticed that of all the others, only Alistair, Irminric and Wynne were the only ones who seemed to have some control over their nausea. That wasn’t terribly surprisingly given their demonstration of strong willpower in the past.

However, it didn’t mean she wasn’t grateful for it since it allowed them to act. As Wynne formed a magical barrier against any further incursions, the two former templars started hauling people, who were unable to move from nausea, out into the open air of the courtyard. Lana helped those who needed a shoulder to lean on to move under their own power.

Once outside she gratefully sucked in lungfuls of fresh air. Normally the air of Denerim was redolent with garbage, human and animal waste, whatever noxious thing had been washed up from the river or ocean and was rotting on the shore. At that moment the air tasted as sweet as the most remote mountain meadow of Highever.

Fortunately, there was some quick thinking amongst the guards posted on the outside since there were numerous buckets and other vessels with fresh water. The buckets were used to wash off those covered in their own mess, while the rest wiped their faces with damp cloths before taking small, cautious sips of water to rinse their mouths.

The only one who wasn’t fazed by the situation was Ogren, who in true to form, pulled out one of his ubiquitous flasks and offered a drink to help put some fire back into people. Despite her better judgement, Lana was reaching out to take a swig when an explosion could be heard from inside the keep. Thick, black, acrid smoke began to pour out of the nearest windows. Smelling the previous malodor as something even worse boggled her mind.

Lana had something more important to worry about than the worst possible stench in the world. Reacting in her typical fashion to trouble, Marlana raced into the keep with her blades drawn.

Somehow seeing clearly despite the pall cast by the smoke, she ran through the Great Hall into the hallway beyond and into the sloping passage. Not paying attention to the fact she wasn’t carrying any source of light, either as mundane as a torch or as exotic as a glowstone, she charged down the way, adamantly ignoring what made the stone floor so very sticky or what might be dripping down the walls.

She paused to look around, and called out, “Shale? Are you okay?”

The massive golem came out of a side room, covered in blackened material, “Augh. I’m fine fine. Though I have some crispy bits that will need to be scraped off.”

Feeling ridiculous at having her weapons out, she sheathed them, not paying attention to the faint luminescence being cast off by Vigilance. “What happened?”

“Well, there was...stuff floating about, and I guess either that was flammable, or there was gas built up after all.” A shrug, “Maybe an old trap. Burned the nastiness off very nicely. Well, except for what got on me.”

Thinking about the size of the place and the fact the air was clearing out a little too quickly made Lana suspicious. “That was fast.”

“Hmm, you do have a point there.”

A brief, cold breeze that blew across the nape of her neck made Lana shiver for a moment, in the back of her mind Sacrifice growled a warning. Yet there was nothing specific. Then the cold was gone and she realized just how oddly warm the place was for a series of stone rooms so far underground. She couldn’t remember if it had been that warm before or not.

Sounds of booted feet came clattering down the passageway. Alistair was at the head of the small group consisting of the other three Wardens, Wynne and Ogren. Light glowed from the stone set atop Wynne’s staff, providing enough light for them to see. A corner of Alistair’s mouth quirked up slightly, though there was no humor in his warm, brown eyes, “The rest of them are staying put outside for the moment. They aren’t exactly doing too well. And Oogie is probably the smartest of us. He made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t coming down here. I’d forgotten how well he could convey his disgust.”

He looked around the area and shuddered as she smiled faintly at her dog’s antics, “Nice place you have, m’dear.”

She couldn’t quite keep the sulkiness out of her voice, “I said there was a reason why I wanted to raze the place.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for it now. Not that Shale didn’t try to help with that.” The golem didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to, the smirk on her rocky visage said it all. Shaking his head a bit, Alistair handed her a small, earthenware pot, “To help deal with the stench, something Wynne whipped up just now. Smear a little under your nose.”

Nodding her thanks to the two, she did as instructed and sighed in relief as the herbal paste cut through the miasma. She hadn’t realized that the awful stench was still bothering her until she used the paste. With the additional light from the wisps that Wynne started to conjure up as Lana capped the pot, she looked around while stashing it away. And really regretted all of the extra light.

The place had once been made of simple stone walls with wooden timbers for reinforcement in strategic locations. Aside from the slight dampness and mustiness such places acquired over time, the walls had been fairly clean. Except for the rooms that Howe had been using for his executions of course.

Now... Now the current condition made the blood and viscera splashed rooms seem positively sparkling and up to Nan’s exacting standards of cleanliness. They were covered in a thick slime that was the greenish-purple of a bruise gone bad, mixed in a rusty-red that wasn’t quite the color of dried blood and a virulent yellow. Then she realized that was on top of the thick, black sludge covering the walls.

Violently repressing a shudder and flat out refusing to see what the sticky mess was on the floor, Lana said, “Let’s see what else is here, then we’re going to need to find a way to sear down the walls and floor. Somehow I suspect that normal cleaning methods will be decidedly unhealthy. And I’m sure that Shale doesn’t want to risk another explosion, even if it did take care of a good bit of, erm, debris.”

“Oh, the horrors, “ Shale said tartly, “I didn’t know bones could float. It looked almost as bad as something Alistair cooked.”

She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from gagging, the others seemed to turn various shades of green. Ogren glowered, “Soddin’ ancestors, Shale. I didn’t really mean the soup comment earlier.”

“Well, it was. An awful looking, thick liquid with bones and...stuff floating on top.”

Rubbing her forehead, Lana repressed a sigh. Paste or not, she didn’t want to get another deep breath of the place’s atmosphere. And she didn’t want anyone else starting to get sick either, “Enough, you two.”

“Oh, very well,” Shale huffed while Ogren just snorted.

They formed up on her as she cautiously began to explore a place that held a place of honor in her nightmares. The ones not involving the talking darkspawn, which mercifully didn’t happen as often thanks to the wards set by Alistair and Wynne. There was something about the place that was making her uneasy, if that was possible. It wasn’t just the “soup” residue, the oddly disintegrated bones lying about, or the occasional squeal of the rats that still scampered about.

Both her inner dragon and Sacrifice were growling almost continuously at nothing she could detect.

She ruthlessly squashed the dragon, if she couldn’t keep control of herself, no matter how odd that part of her was, she was in sorry shape. Unfortunately, she couldn’t squash Sacrifice, though it did stop distracting her.

Vigilance simply lived up to its name by remaining on watch.

During the slow, careful examination of each room, including the cells which contained the stuff of more nightmare material, Irminric reluctantly spoke up, “There is something about this place. At first I simply thought it had been from the time I spent imprisoned here, but...”

“Yes,” Wynne agreed as she rubbed at a crease that ran down the middle of her brow, “There is something not right about this place. The Veil seems to be intact and there hasn’t been any sign of demons. Yet, there is something off.”

Alistair frowned, “It reminds me of the ruins we where we met the Lady of the Forest, but it doesn’t seem to be any ghosts about.”

“I don’t see any of them flea-bitten weres,” Ogren rumbled, looking around warily.

“Ghosts, like the boy we saw there or the woman that later attacked us. Not weres, that curse is over and done with,” Lana replied absently, pausing at the entrance to the room she’d slaughtered Howe in. She ignored Ogren’s shudder and comment about nughumping spirits. She didn’t want to think about that particular mental image.

Vigilance stirred and tried to convey something to her, but didn’t have the voice to say what was bothering it. Both weapons radiated frustration, causing Alistair to look at her sharply and even the other three Wardens to look about in confusion.

Since no one was giving her any constructive advice, Lana decided that it was time to face her own ghosts. Even if they were ones in her mind.

Seeing the walls bare of the clinging sludge and nastiness, even the floor bare of all but Howe’s corpse was disturbing enough as it was. It was even worse to see that hacked apart body on the floor by itself, seemingly untouched from time since her killing blow. It seemed as if the rats and insects hadn’t eaten any of the flesh, nor were there any maggots writing on or about what should have been a feast for the carrion feeders.

Delindro made a low whistle at the sight as he stopped in the doorway with everyone except Alistair. The king quietly walked up to his lady as she stood over her dead enemy’s corpse. He gripped her shoulder and said grimly, “You didn’t make him suffer enough.”

At his words another cold breeze blew through the room and Vigilance keened a frustrated warning in her mind just before pain exploded through her. A long slice abruptly appeared on her left cheek. Stunned, she reached up to her face where blood was already dripping down in rivulets along her skin.

Afraid for her, Alistair drew his blade and shield, looking about for the source of attack so he could defend Marlana.

Pain flared again as another slice was taken out of her right cheek. This time the unseen attack broke her shock and she drew her swords. Drops of her blood fell on both weapons causing Sacrifice to give voice to an angry, metallic howl. A sound echoed by those outside of the room they were suddenly blocked from by an invisible force.

Vigilance flared to life with an eerie, ethereal light that echoed in Lana’s eyes.

That light limned the form of Howe’s very angry revenant. Like the brief time she’d seen her parents in the Fade, he appeared years younger and no sign of the terrible injuries he’d taken just before death. A nasty smile twisted his lips and he crouched with wickedly sharp looking ghostly daggers in his hands. “So you can see me after all. Good. Now you’ll know for a fact who is going to be delivering a slow and painful death to you.”

His face twisted even more as he looked at Alistair who was looking in the direction of Lana’s gaze, but confused at what she was looking at. “How will your little boy-king deal at watching you die before him, powerless to save you?”

The familiar cold and dangerous calm, the one that had allowed her to make all of the difficult decisions she had to do during the Blight, fell upon her at that moment.

And something clicked between her and the two swords.

In that too mild tone that made Alistair’s back go up, and their isolated companions to try to beat down the invisible barrier even more, she said, “You’re an idiot, Howe.”

Her comment caused gasps of shock from those outside, but Alistair looked around sharply, picking up some hint of the apparition’s presence through their bond.

“I’m the idiot? You’re the one who came to me again.” He lunged at her with inhuman speed. In return, Marlana seemed to blur as she unleashed her own unnatural speed. Until then, the only one who’d ever seen just how fast she truly was had been Alistair. “LIttle fool, you’re in a place where I have all the power and you... You have only what I grant. Which is nothing.”

She blocked each attack again and again, while her lips may have curved up, there was no warmth or humor in the expression. If anything, it was just a touch other, as if she weren’t entirely human herself at that moment. “Yes, you are the idiot. Because what I can see, I can affect.”

In the silence of her mind she asked Vigilance if it could extend its sight to the others.

*Yes*, said Vigilance as the light filled the room revealing Howe for all to see. And the barrier that kept everyone else out. Wynne called upon her magic to take it down, instead it reflected her power back at her, knocking her unconscious. Shale raised one fist then stopped the motion when she saw the flames were curving away from the barrier and was in danger of roasting her fleshy companions. Irminric attempted to dispel any magical auras in the area, but abruptly fell on his ass in the muck on the floor when that too backfired on him.

Howe just laughed, an awful hollow sound that was still full of malice. “I’d hoped I’d teach that old bitch a lesson. That I got that fool templar that Logan insisted on keeping alive is a nice bonus. After I’m done with you two, I’ll deal with the rest.”

She didn’t say anything as she continued to deflect his attacks while considering the situation. Somehow, Marlana had a feeling that trying to beat down Howe’s ghost wasn’t going to work.

*Channel your power through us*, said Sacrifice in her mind.

*What power?*, she replied in the same way, confused as to what the blade could be referring to.

Vigilance spoke in a surprisingly sweet, crystalline tenor, a decided contrast to harsh tones of Sacrifice, *The power you’ve had since a child. What made you what you are.*

*But... I’m not a mage.”

*No*, Sacrifice said impatiently, *You are more.*

*It is what has let you survive what should have killed you. Let you do what you needed to.*

As her body continued to fight automatically, Vigilance and Sacrifice, blades forged from the bone of a dead god and the remnants of the weapon that channeled the power from the sacrifice of made by said god and his killer-redeemer, showed their bearer the true nature of the strange silvery substance that had made her what she was. And what still allowed her to continue to reshape her nature as she needed. Sickened, she hesitated for a moment, almost allowing Howe to land another strike, except Vigilance blocked the blow.

How did one reconcile the fact that one hadn’t been entire human for years?

*No*, Vigilance said with infinite patience in stark contrast to Sacrifice’s annoyance at what it considered to be her thickheadedness. *It didn’t make you, it didn’t strip you of your humanity. It made you more. It allowed you to be fully yourself. Ever choice you made, large or small, shaped you. Even now you have control over who, and what, you are.*

Her body whirled, blades flashing silently as resumed her defense against the increasingly angry shade. And slowly maneuvered her opponent to give Alistair a chance to strike, even if until now his blade and shield had proven ineffective. Even distracted as she was, she knew that look of utter concentration in his expression. She was going to give him as much time as she could to let him gather up that formidable strength of will that he possessed. Even if he’d never been considered a full templar.

Marlana’s mind whirled in turmoil, afraid of what further changes she’d go through if she took this step. Through the bond she shared with her not-quite-templar, she felt his love and support. No matter what he thought about the dark shadows of his heart, Alistair always would be the keeper of her heart and the brighter half of her soul. And what she needed to remain as human as she could be.

With that support she realized that if she denied this part, she denied herself, denied what she had with, not just Alistair, but those who were just outside this room, and the others who had scattered to the winds. Vigilance showed her that they’d all known there’d been something off about her from the beginning, but not that they didn’t care, they didn’t let it affect how they saw her.

So with a deep mental breath, she accepted what had lain dormant in her blood, bone and flesh until that awful night of blood and fire that happened because of the creature before her. She realized that her time in the Fade had led to a surface acceptance, now she accepted everything. The strange blades that were a gift of love, the power that they said she had and more importantly, she accept Marlana Cousland the woman.

The strange substance quickened at her acknowledgement and the two swords flared with the power.

In that flash of light she went from purely defending herself to outright assault as she began to lash out at Howe the way she did four short months before.

At that same moment a concentrated beam of brilliant white light speared down on the ghost, driving it to knees as Alistair unleashed the power of his will.

Vigilance stabbed down, pinning the writhing ghost to the floor.

He howled, “No! This isn’t fair!”

Ignoring his comment, she said in that too calm voice, “Rendon Howe, I condemn you to the Abyss. May you wander its cold depths for eternity, never to know the light of the Maker or the warmth of Andraste’s love again.”

Sacrifice screamed out its furious joy as Marlana slammed it down into the apparition. Silver laced scarlet and cerulean flames poured out of the weapons into the spirit. For a brief time he screamed out his agony, and while it was brief, it seemed endless. Once the fire consumed the spirit it spread out instead of vanishing. It passed through those present, leaving them untouched, but it did destroy the body of the now banished revenant. And with the body the flames consumed every bit of foulness and corruption in the keep.

Once the flames vanished, Alistair grabbed Lana before she could collapse, pale and shaking from what had just happened. With his support she sheathed the blades then leaned against his solid support. Kendrick went to check on Wynne and Irminric, but the later waved him off with, “Just my pride and my rear that’s hurt.”

Wynne leaned against the now clean wall and sighed, “I’m too old for this kind of nonsense, but I’ll be fine.” She turned too shrewd eyes on Lana, “But you, young lady, have a lot to explain how you managed to do that.”

Feeling her weapons silent consent, she said, “Well, what else do you expect from swords made of archdemon bone, the broadsword I killed said archdemon with and what was left of Starfang.”

Ogren grunted, “Figures you’d end up with somethin’ like that. Just as well none of them nancy-boy guards of yers were here. I don’t think they’d’ve handled this too well.”

Lana started to protest, thinking of Edwards and Tammrel, but Alistair interrupted, “I’m afraid I have to agree, love. Edwards and Tammrel are fine, but the others...I trust them to guard you life, but I can’t trust them to not gossip.”

“What? You don’t want Marlana scaring off anymore people?” Shale asked sarcastically. There were a faint smiles, and she continued on, “This isn’t as bad as some of the other things we’ve seen her do, but I don’t think their little, fleshy brains could handle seeing her in action.”

At first Lana wondered why they were so accepting about the situation, despite Vigilance’s revelation earlier, until Ogren piped up, “Yep, ‘tween her headbuttin’ an ogre in his dangly bits then shutting up a werewolf by hanging off its muzzle, nothing much surprises me anymore.”

She scrunched up her nose at the memory of both of those situations and had to ruefully admit that maybe the berserker had a point. Delindro shook his head slightly, “After the stories I heard on the way here, I’ll admit that what I was told was real wasn’t a surprise. Banishing an angry ghost in such a way seems fitting.”

Not wanting to have anyone get in on her about this latest escapade, Lana wearily said, “I think we’re should finish our inspection and get out of here.”

Mindful of the various minor injuries and general exhaustion, they made quick work of the place, but not before they found another surprise. But this one was far more pleasant than an angry ghost out for revenge.

Staring at the small hidden chamber full of treasure, Lana shook her head in bafflement, “I could have sworn that we searched for hidden rooms like this when we went through.”

Ogren rolled his eyes, “We were kinda busy. I seem to remember a whole lotta pissed off guards.”

“Well, I suppose you have a point there.”

Kendrick spotted a large, leather bound book and went over to it while Lana still looked bemused. Leafing through it he said, “It seems that Howe was keeping records of where this came from. You’ll have to go through it in detail, but it looks like this was from the royal treasury as well as what he was siphoning out of Denerim.” He paused at another random entry and abruptly closed the book, “I’m sorry, Marlana, some of it is from Highever.”

A small part of her mind was amused that he called her by name rather than Commander, at that moment she needed all the good humor she could scrounge up, “Fergus and I did wonder. We’ll keep the place under better guard until I can figure out how to divide this up to its rightful owners.” She stifled a yawn, it seemed wrong to be so tired so early in the day, except it’d been far more eventful than it should have been. “Let’s get out of here, I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s tired and feels disgusting.”

Shale scoffed at being tired, but she did admit that she could really use a good scrubbing down. Everyone agreed they wanted to get out of the place. Fortunately, it didn’t take very long to return to the outside, assign guards and get into the carriages to go back to the palace.

Lana was thankful that it seemed like what had happened at the estate didn’t gather attention from the rest of the city.

Once they were on their way, and no chance of anyone overhearing them, Alistair said thoughtfully, “Now we just need to get you your scales and wings.”

“Excuse me?”, she asked incredulously.

“You know, for your ‘inner dragon’. Vigilance and Sacrifice are obviously your claws and fangs. And apparently your frie.”

The blades radiated their approval. He grinned back, eyes full of sly amusement, “Hm, the scales are easy enough, just need to give Master Wade incentive to get the work done quickly,”

Lana shook her head, but knew better than to try to deflect him, and grateful for his easy humor, “I’m afraid to know what you had in mind for wings.”

“Well, that’ll take some doing, though maybe one of your pet mages of the Shadow Circle might come up with something. After all, one of them wants to breed enhanced warhorses along the lines of the mabari.”

Now she just stared at him, horror of the thought robbing her of all speech. Alistair laughed wickedly at her expression.

She grumbled, “You’re lucky that I love you.”

Suddenly serious, he nodded, “I am. And I’m glad I was with you today.”

“I am too. You...kept me centered.”

“What really happened, Lana? I felt some sort of turmoil and I think I heard your swords actually speaking to you...”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, before slowly explaining what she’d gone through and what she’d learned about herself. He listened with his usual patience and didn’t seem at all surprised. He leaned into the back of the bench, “Why are you giving me that look? How many times have we told you that we knew you weren’t normal? Especially me? The truth is, ever since you told me about that incident with that strange stuff I’d always wondered if there’d been more to what it did than changing your hair and eye colors.”

He looked at the swords a little warily, “Though I’ll admit that they actually talk to you now is a little creepy.” He frowned, “Though I don’t understand how I heard them also if they’re talking to just you. No one else seemed to hear them.”

*Ours*, Sacrifice said possessively.

Both humans boggled at the sword. Vigilance elaborated, *You are hers, she is ours, as we are hers. So you are ours as well.

“Right then, I’m just going to think about something a little less disturbing”, Alistair commented looking a little wild eyed. Lana dropped her head in her hands and tried not to whimper. “Now that you’ve rather decisively dealt with Howe’s remains, do you think anyone else is going to go after you for killing him? He’s had children, right?”

Relieved to discuss something a bit more normal, Lana straightened up and nodded, “Three. I know that Delilah isn’t a threat. She sent word that she was very grateful that I ended her father’s evil. From what I’ve been told she’d happily married to a merchant in Amaranthine City.”

Alistair blinked at her, “Wow, I never expected that from one his children.”

“With Delilah, I’m not. We were close enough in age to be somewhat friendly, but her father kept distance between us.” She gave him a crooked grin, “Apparently he thought I was a bad influence on his daughter.”

He laughed, “You? A bad influence? Never! Though to be serious, I think your bad influence needs to spread out more, we could use more people like that.”

She shook her head again.

“Hm, so what about the other two?”

“Word is that Tomas died in Highever. Apparently he did take after his father a bit much, only he didn’t have his father’s skill and got gutted when he accosted the wrong woman. Her extended family took...exception if you will.”

“I can well imagine”, he muttered.

“Finally there’s Nathaniel, who is the eldest. No one has heard from him in...damn, almost eight years now.”

“What happened to him?”

She sighed, “Howe didn’t think Nate was growing up to be a proper man and banished him off to the Free Marches to grow up or something. I don’t know if he’s even alive. Not even his sister has heard from him.”

“Maker’s breath.”

“If I’m going to be worried about anyone, it’ll be whatever plot Esmerelle comes up with.”

“Hmm, the name is familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“She’s the Bann of Amaranthine City. She and Howe were pretty close. How close, I’m not sure and probably don’t want to know. She’ll probably try to do some sort of dirty political trick if anything.”

“Well, I guess that’s that then.” He looked out of the carriage window, “Well, it’s only late morning now. And for once my schedule is clear. So what do you say we take a long soak in a hot bath and have something to eat? Then goof off for the rest of the day?”

She grinned, “Sounds good, as long as the food doesn’t involve soup.”

Even the swords shuddered at the thought.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally don't, but I'm going to suggest listening to Two Steps From Hell “Undying Love”, “Magic of Love”, “Fill My Heart” and “Everlasting”.

“I’m so very proud of you, my darling girl”, said her dead mother.

The voice came from behind her, and needing the moment to brace herself, she looked ahead. Marlana stared out the massive window before her, at the fantastical landscape spread out before where she stood and knew she was dreaming. She’d never seen a flat top mountain with a hollow center with waterfalls splashing down so very prettily into a large, crystalline lake. Nor had she ever seen amethystine and indigo foliage mixed with green the color of the darkest emerald and the pale jade. Birds with long, flowing plumage all the colors of the rainbow and smaller ones, like little jewels, flew about together under the diaphanous golden light, singing prettily simply for the joy of singing.

A pleasantly warm breeze blew through the window, tugging at her long, unbound hair and the iridescent, flowing robe that was wrapped around her, cinched at her waist with a tasseled cord of twined silver and gold.

At least this latest nightmare wasn’t in her ancestral home.

*Not a nightmare*, said the crimson dragon that was Sacrifice as he flew overhead in the distance.

Reassured, even if the form her sword had chosen wasn’t all that reassuring, she slowly turned to face her dead mother. Eleanor smiled warmly at her, though there was some sorrow in those bright green eyes. She hesitated, then whispered, “Mother?”

*Yes, it is her. Not a demon*, assured the azure griffin that was Vigilance as he joined his brother’s flight in the sky.

Heart overflowing with conflicting emotions, wondering if it was finally going to break this time, she hesitantly stepped towards her mother’s spirit. Then Lana was wrapped up in her mother’s comforting embrace and began to weep into her shoulder in a way she hadn’t done since she was very young. Eleanor gently lead her over to a cushioned bench to sit. As she settled in against her mother, Lana said in a muffled voice, “Oh mama, I’m so very sorry.”

“Sorry? Whatever for, Lana?” Eleanor lightly ran her over her daughter’s shining hair soothingly, which only made the tears turn into a flood. Her mother’s loving confusion hurt even worse than the recriminations she’d always expected. Shouldn’t she be angry at Lana’s failure to save the family during Howe’s attack?

“Marlana? Why do you feel the need to apologize?” She asked as she lifted her daughter’s face up to look at her, worry now overshadowing confusion when she didn’t get an answer.

Lana dropped her eyes and whispered, “For not being fast enough to save you and father. For not coming to Oriana’s and Oren’s aid...”

“Oh for... You stop that right now, Marlana Phaedra Cousland.” Loving worry instantly changed to maternal annoyance. “Your father was dying and I wasn’t about to leave him. Besides, I was in no shape to go on the run with you and Duncan.” She sighed sadly, pulled out a cloth from the cuff of her dress and began to dry her daughter’s tears, “Even if you were able to get out of your room right away, there wouldn’t have been enough time for you to save our grandson and his mother.”

The young woman started to shake her head, but her mother kept a firm grip on her chin, another voice chimed in before either spoke. Bryce Cousland commented, “Ah pup, why do you still blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault?”

Hearing the lightly chiding and loving tone of her father’s voice caused Lana to close her eyes and try not to shake. Bad enough to deal with her mother’s spirit, but now her father? What she thought were now scarred over wounds proved to be barely healed injuries. Ones that were being violently torn open causing blood to pour out.

Her father sighed as he sat down on the other side of her and put his hand on her shoulder, “My brave, fierce girl, you always did take your sense of duty to heart too much. That may not have been me at the Temple that is Andraste’s final resting place, but the sentiment is true. There’s nothing that needs forgiving, my dear girl. No man could be any prouder to call you his daughter, nor love you as much as I do.”

Eleanor soothed her daughter’s hair again as the silent weeping restarted, “It’s true for me as well, my dear. You may not have been what I hoped for, or expected, in a daughter, but I’m so glad you are the amazing woman you’ve grown into. I too love you so very much.”

Hoarsely and still unable to face them, “I love you both so very much. The things I did during the Blight, what I became...”

Her mother’s voice went somewhat tart, “What you became is the brightest, bravest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Like your father said, you need to stop tormenting yourself with what isn’t your fault.”

With a sniffle, Lana sat up a little straighter and accepted another cloth to repair the damages of her crying, then she hesitantly looked up at her father for the the first time.

Bryce, like Eleanor, appeared younger than when she’d like seen him bleeding out laying on the pantry floor. His dark grey eyes were as she remembered though, full of the wisdom and leadership she’d always valued from her father, but that too was tempered by sorrow. He smiled at her, the loving expression she’d grown up with. Her heart wanted to break even more. “My little girl, all grown up, soon to be married and Queen of Ferelden.”

She sniffed, “You don’t have to sound so surprised at me getting married. You sound even less surprised that I’m getting married to the King.”

Her mother laughed, “After all those years you spent scaring off would be suitors? That my daughter fell in love with a man and is getting married to him? Why yes, that is a greater surprise than the fact he’s the new King.”

Bryce’s warm laughter joined his wife’s. Then he sobered, “That part is ironic given what I discouraged Cailan from going along with Eamon’s mad scheme.”

Lana grimaced, “Eamon thought I was biddable, which is why he suggested replacing Anora with me.”

She wasn’t surprised they would’ve known about that plan, or that they kept quiet about it. They generally did when it came to the various proposals sent to them and that one in particular. Not just because they didn’t want to see Cailan set Anora to the side just on Eamon’s suggestion, but because they knew Marlana would’ve run roughshod over Cailan.

Or killed him in the process of trying to make him grow a spine and brain.

This time it was her turn to laugh at her parents’ flummoxed reaction. Bryce said very slowly, “You are many things, but biddable isn’t one of them. I wonder where he got that idea from?”

Eleanor sighed, “It’s probably my fault, I always that Lana was a very dutiful daughter. I suppose he thought that meant she’d do whatever she was told.”

Trying not to squirm, Lana flushed a little remembering the times she was less than obedient, but it was in small things, usually her refusal to wear a dress. Her mother smiled at her fondly and patted her hand, “You’ve always known your own mind and had a strong will, there’s nothing wrong with that, because we managed to get some good sense into you.”

Hating herself for asking, but she had to know, “Did you...did you know about Alistair?”

“No, we didn’t”, Bryce answered, clearly upset, but not at her. “Had we known about him, we would’ve insisted on caring for the boy ourselves. Particularly when Eamon gave in to his wife’s demand to send Alistair to the Chantry as a templar.”

Lana muttered, “Damn harpy.”

“Marlana!” Eleanor chided.

Now on firmer ground, Lana looked at her mother stubbornly, “After all the misery that woman has caused to the people she is supposed to care for? And the fact she hasn’t been punished for it? Harpy is too kind of a word for her.”

Both of the older Couslands winced, but neither could deny her anger. It was possible that Eamon had done something about his wife, but there’d been no public acknowledgement and she’d been out and about in public as if everything was perfectly normal. And still no hint of remorse over the deaths her actions had caused in her husband’s arling.

But Lana was reassured that her sentiments about her parents taking in Alistair were true. Of course hearing Vigilance’s whispered assurances of truth helped a great deal.

Though it was just a dream in the Fade, it felt good to be here with them for the brief moment that she was granted. It felt like those awful emotional wounds were suddenly beginning to properly heal. She sighed a little wistfully, “I wish you could meet him, he’s one of the best people I’ve ever known.”

Bryce smiled, “I’ve seen enough to know that he treasures you the way you should be by the man who is taking you as his wife. You both have my blessings for your marriage. I hope that is as long and as happy as the one I had the honor to share with your mother.”

She’d grown up with the love her parents shared between them, and shared with Fergus and she. Seeing it now, for one last time, and that they’d include Alistair if they could, the way they had with Oriana when Fergus got married... A little more of that ache in her heart healed. Though a new one replaced it.

Eleanor smiled at her daughter as well, “And you have my blessings as well, though you should have known you’d always have them. After all, I’d always hoped to see at least one grandchild from you!”

That gave Lana pause considering what she’d learned from Wynne a few weeks before. Both parents patted her hand, then Bryce said, “We’re limited in what we’re allowed to say. We were given leave to speak with you this time for all that you have done, and likely will do in the future. I’m sorry to say this, my girl, there will be more dark days ahead of you, but always remain true. True to your young man, true to your friends, and most importantly of all: remain true to yourself. And you will find brighter days.”

A lump settled in her throat, not at the prospect of more dark days ahead. After all wasn’t this the Dragon Age? The Age named after a dragon going on a rampage, one that everyone said would always be marked by violent change? Besides, Ferelden needed to be rebuilt, there was still the matter of those strange talking darkspawn, and Maker only knew what other troubles were going to come up. Of course there would be dark days ahead.

But that there would be better days ahead, no matter how distant, was something worth striving for.

Swallowing back the lump, she humbly said, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Well, I do have one last thing for you, my dear, before you have to go”, Eleanor said.

Lana shook her head, she’d been given all she could expect from this last visit. Knowing her parents still loved her, were in fact proud of her, that was all she needed. Her mother smiled, took her daughter’s hand and placed a small object in the palm before closing Lana’s fingers over it, “There is a tradition I would like to see kept. I’m sure you had another wedding ring made since I couldn’t give you mine before this, but I would still like you to have the ring that has been passed down through my family for your wedding.”

Blinking back another spate of tears, Lana gave her mother a quick, fierce hug. It had been a tradition in her mother’s family for the mother to pass the ancient ring down to her eldest daughter when that daughter was to be married, and the mother to get a new ring from her husband. When she had taken inventory of the contents of the hidden treasure room that Howe had, Lana had hoped her mother’s wedding ring was in there. But it hadn’t been, now for her mother’s spirit to give it the eve of Lana’s wedding...

Her mother smiled, a little misty eyed herself, “Wear it in good health and much joy, my dear Lana.”

Another hug between mother and daughter. One final, tight hug between father and daughter. Before he let her go, he murmured, “I truly am so very proud of what you’ve done, Marlana. You’ve done so very much more than I ever expected.”

Then Lana found herself walking towards the window she’d been looking out at before, this time with Vigilance crouched on the floor beside it, ready to bear her away.

“Marlana, would you wait a moment?” Another woman’s voice called out to her.

Surprised to hear Oriana, she turned to her lost sister-by-marriage, who smiled warmly in return. “I know you may not be able to tell Fergus this right away, but I want him to know that I want him to find happiness and love again. That if he continues to mope over my death, I’ll find a way to make him pay for it.”

While she wouldn’t say what her brother did was moping, Lana knew he needed the time to recover from the loss of his beloved wife and son. But she smiled a little and nodded, “When the time is right, I will.”

“You’ve always been a woman of your word, Marlana, I know you’ll find a way.”

Fergus’s lost wife took Marlana’s hands in her own for a brief moment, “I want you to know that your parents are right. What happened to me and to Oren...it isn’t your fault. You’re only human.”

Orianna gave her a fierce smile, “You did what you could at the time, and later on you made those bastards pay. And Howe doubly so. I hold no enmity for you, Marlana, and you are still my sister.”

The two hugged briefly, then before she knew it, Lana found herself on Vigilance’s back, borne away into the sky filled with that odd, diaphanous golden light. In her ears she could still hear her parents last call, “We will always love you and Fergus.”

The pale grey light of pre-dawn was just trickling into the windows of the unfamiliar room when Marlana thrashed awake from her dreaming. Between the dream meeting with her parents and in strange bed held in a room she didn’t recognize, and more importantly, no Alistair beside her, she wasn’t doing well. Sacrifice did the mental equivalent of sitting on her while Vigilance wordlessly reassured her that everything was fine.

Heart racing from the scare, she lay there for a bit panting while trying to remember where exactly she was. Then her memory did return, she was in what was considered her room of the Cousland estate in Denerim. She visited Denerim so rarely before the Blight, Lana had forgotten she had her own room there. As for why she was there... It was decided it’d be best if she spent the night before her wedding in the closest thing to her family home away from the palace. Maker only knew where her groom had spent the night.

Finally calm, she realized that her right hand was still wrapped tight around a small object. With trembling fingers, she opened her hand to stare incredulously at the item she held. Or rather, items.

Tears threatened to form again as she stared at not only her mother’s wedding ring, but her father’s as well.

Overwhelmed, she folded her hands over the precious gifts and held them to her heart as she silently wept. This time Sacrifice joined his brother in the wordless reassurance that all would be well. As the sky outside brightened with the dawn, Lana brought herself back under control.

After all, today was the day what was between her and Alistair would be officially recognized.

It was going to be one of the best days of her life.

Emotions back in check, she carefully slid out of the high bed, not letting go of the precious rings. She silently padded to the table that held the carved jewelry box along with all the other little miscellaneous bits and pieces she was told that would be needed to get her ready for her big day. As she thought, there was a plain golden chain that would do for holding the rings for the moment. After sliding them into place, then slipping the chain over her head, she smiled as they settled just above her heart.

As she did her rummaging, she asked of her blades, “So you guard me even in my sleep?”  
*Of course. We'd be poor guardians if we did not ward your mind as well as your body *, said Vigilance.

“Thank you.”

Wordless pleasure was the response she received from both weapons.

Tucking the chain inside of the light chemise she’d been sleeping in, she splashed some cool water on her face from the ewer on the stand beside the bed, then patted her face dry with the hem of her garment, lips quirking in amusement as she imagined her mother’s horrified reaction to such an unladylike action. She debated calling for a maid for tea and something light to tide her over until breakfast when there was a light knock at the door.

Even though this was supposed to be a safe place, she placed on hand on Sacrifice’s hilt as she called out, “Yes?”

The door swung open and Leliana peered around the doorway. The red headed bard beamed happily, “I thought you’d be awake. And I’m sure you are starving!”

Laughing easily, Lana casually dropped her hand to her side, Leli’s pale eyes tracking the movement, but not commenting. None of Lana’s companions from the Blight commented about her paranoia, it had kept them alive after all. Though they all liked to tease the two Wardens about their appetites, and not just their seemingly bottomless stomachs.

“Well, I’ll admit I was contemplating a snack to tide me over for breakfast”, Lana dimpled at her friend.

“I thought so. I hope you do not mind, but I arranged for breakfast to be served. You’ll have a snack before leaving for the ceremony.”

Lana walked over and gave Leli a quick hug, “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you during this whole mess.”

“You are a resourceful woman, you would have figured something out.” Leliana returned the hug. “I will admit though, that it’s quite a honor to be able to help plan the wedding of two of my dearest friends.”

Sapphire eyes cast a sly look at the bard, “And nothing at all with the fact it also happens to be a royal one?”

“Well, maybe just a little”, Leli held up her thumb and forefinger a sliver apart as she said so. Then the smile faded a bit and she held up a sealed envelope, “I thought you might want to see this before everyone else descended upon you.”

Curious, she accepted the envelope made of heavy, cream parchment. The golden colored wax sealing the missive was embossed with a raven in flight. On the front in familiar handwriting that she hadn’t seen in too long was her name. She looked up at Leliana with too many questions that she couldn’t give voice to.

“Zevran brought it to me this morning”, Leliana said a little too quietly. She flushed somewhat and a rueful chuckle, “Well, late last night is more accurate.”

Relief flooded through Lana, she’d been worried about him since there hadn’t been any word from the former Crow, but she had to smile at Leli’s reaction. Leli and Zev had been far more discreet with their relationship than she had been with Alistair, but then again the bard and assassin weren’t interested in something that required emotional commitment. “I’m glad he made it back, and not just in time to be here for the wedding. Is he doing alright?”

“Oh him”, Leli snorted, “That one is like a cat, he is. Will always land on his feet and laughing about it. So, are you going to see what Morri has to say or not?”

Understanding that Leli didn’t want her to pry any further, Lana sat down at the table, gestured to Leliana to take a seat, then pulled out a dagger to open the letter. More of a brief note, but she still smiled as she read it.

My friend,

While I still do not get the sentiment, I know this day will mean a great deal to you and your templar. So for what it is worth, you have my blessings. I wish you nothing but a long life of happiness.

There was no signature, only a stylized raven in flight. Still, she knew that very precise, angular handwriting very well. “Morrigan wanted to give me her blessings.”

Leliana shook her head, “I still do not know how you managed to befriend that...woman.”

“She and I are different, and I think that’s what made it possible. Well, we did have one thing in common.”

“And that would be?”

“She understood duty.”

Leliana nodded, “I suppose she did.”

Then she brightened, “Anyway! No need to be so gloomy on such a wonderful day. Come, let us get you fed and washed and dressed! You are going to simply dazzle Alistair once we’re done with you.”

The young bride just smiled, put away the precious note, then pulled on a robe over top her chemise, since there was no point in getting overly dressed up before the time to put on her wedding gown. She figured the fact that she went through the difficulty of finding a gown that was appropriate was all the proof she needed of what she felt for Alistair. Even now Marlana still categorically loathed dresses. Well, except for this one. But more for what it was meant for than the fact she liked a dress for being a dress.

She absently slung the weapons belt holding her swords over her shoulder. Her friend didn’t say anything, but didn’t hide the fact she rolled her eyes at the continuing paranoia. Lana didn’t say anything either, figuring her history said more than enough for her.

Leliana interrupted her musings as they walked down the hall to the small sitting room where the private breakfast was waiting for them, along with Wynne, Rowena and Alfstanna. “Lana, I know you tend to be a reserved woman, but it is okay for you to show some nerves about today.”

That made her frown slightly, “Why in the name of the Maker would I be nervous?”

“Well, marriage is a big step...”

“Oh.” She thought it over for a moment, “You have to understand, there’s already a much stronger bond between us than that. This is merely a formality.”

“I do not understand.”

Lana paused, to give herself a moment to think over how to explain, and how much she wanted to ttell, “I don’t want to go into too many details since it’s extremely personal. Just take my word, there is a bond that Alistair and I willingly have that binds us far more than mere words ever could.”

The braid in Leli’s hair swung as she shook her head, “I do not understand, but I know your word is good. And will accept what you say.”

Lana gave her a wry smile and continued on to breakfast, trying not to react to Leli nearly using the same words as Oriana. Though hunger distracted since her stomach had gotten to the point where it was going to embarrass her soon, “So I’m not worried about the wedding, or the marriage.”

“So what are you worried about.”

“Dancing with Alistair during the reception. The man might be light on his feet in his armor with sword and shield, but he has two left feet when it comes to dancing.” She didn’t want to voice her true fears, that something horrible was going to happen to disrupt the wedding ceremony.

The two were laughing when they entered the sitting room. Wynne smiled in warm greetings. Rowena and Alfstanna just stared at them bleary eyed after being up so late the night before in a private party the four of them had for Lana. Neither of the two noblewomen were used to the rigors of seemingly endless travel and battle for over a year, so they still needed time to get going. Though they weren’t so tired as to not goggle slightly over how much food their soon to be Queen put away.

It wasn’t just the appetite from being a Warden, or the fact that she was facing a long day where she may not be able to eat much that caused her to indulge. It was the fact that some amazing person made her favorite breakfast treat, fried egg bread. The name may not have sounded appetizing, but there was nothing like thick slabs of slightly stale bread soaked in a mixture of sweetened egg, lightly fried then smothered in butter and honey. It was pure culinary bliss.

After happily gorging, it was time for the real preparations to begin. While she reluctantly understood why they were going to help her get dressed, Lana drew the line at letting anyone help her wash herself. The only person who had that privilege was Alistair and there were times when she wanted a leisurely soak all on her own.

She did concede to letting them help dry her hair. Letting it dry naturally would have taken far too long, and it was a pain to dry it on her own. Besides, it wasn’t like one or more of them weren’t going to be fussing with her hair anyway. It had been made abundantly clear that she wasn’t “allowed” to dress herself, or fix her hair or any other preparations.

Marlana Cousland may not have been the type to follow most traditions, but she realized how important it was for the women who had become her attendants and friends to follow certain ones. Particularly one that included fussing over the bride as she got ready. Though she largely suspected some of that was purely Leliana’s making. She didn’t remember such a fuss being kicked up over Oriana.

She didn’t allow herself to remember how she had been one of the fussers when Gwen got married.

So with a smile she let them confer over her about how the underdress should be put on, then the overdress, how to arrange her hair, and to paint her face. Lana tried to focus on the happiness of the day rather than feeling like an oversized doll. At least none of them batted an eye at the fact she had her parents’ wedding rings on a chain, but then again the only ones who knew that she hadn’t found them for a fact were Fergus and Alistair. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation that was going to happen when she gave her brother their father’s ring.

The only argument that came about was when she started to slide some of her daggers into the sleeves of her dress, which had been designed for such a thing. Rosemary had been surprisingly good natured about the request and had simply commented, “Given your reputation, m’lady, it’s an understandable request. I think I can fit something in easily enough.”

It was Alfstanna who protested the most, “But Marlana, it is your wedding, surely you do not believe you need to be able to protect yourself. There’s going to be plenty of guards on hand! It is your wedding day, you shouldn’t have to worry about such things.”

Rowena had wisely remained silent after her initial outburst and Leli hadn’t said anything at all about it, but had quietly nodded her head in agreement with Lana’s decision. The same with Wynne, but then again they’d survived the Blight with her, even if they hadn’t been there for the two acts of treachery that had started her on the path that led to this day.

It wasn’t quite the dangerous cold, but Marlana’s tone was very cool when she replied, “And that is precisely why I will not allow myself to go unarmed. And while the guards are good, and getting better under the training they’re receiving from my Wardens, they aren’t that good. I will not leave myself undefended ever again.”

Uneasy silence fell, then she smiled warmly breaking the tension, “Besides, I’ll feel undressed.”

They all laughed, then finished the last touches before letting her see herself in the mirror.

Studying her reflection, Lana had a hard time believing she was looking at herself. The underdress of dark blue with highlights of dark silver inset with panels of a silvery medium blue and its slightly puffed sleeves that ended in tight cuffs about her wrists, both contrasted and complemented the silvery white overdress that had its own panels of medium blue to blend the two together. The long sleeves ended in a point that covered the backs of her hands and fell in graceful bell like shapes almost to the floor.

Her long hair was braided away from her face gold and silver embroidered ribbons made from the same materials as her dress, the back of her hair was allowed to cascade freely down her back in a shining wave of silver.

Stunned and pleased, she felt tears beginning to threaten, but blinked them back, not wanting to undo the careful work they’d done on her appearance.

Leli’s eyes glittered with unshed tears of her own, the same with Wynne as the two came to either side of her and gently linked their arms around Lana. “Oh, Marlana, you are so beautiful. No other bride could ever outshine you.”

She hugged both of them in return, “Thank you, all of you. I probably couldn’t have done this on my own after all.”

Wynne gently patted her cheek affectionately, “You’re quite welcome, my dear. Now we must get going if we’re to have a good view.”

Lana narrowed her eyes, “I seem to recall making sure there were designated places for all of you so you wouldn’t have to fight for it.”

The elderly mage patted her cheek affectionately again before serenely heading off with Rowena and Alfstanna giving her quick hugs before hurrying off in Wynne’s wake.

She stared at the hastily shut door in bemusement, “Was it something I said?”

Leli gave her a sly smile as she checked her appearance one last time in the mirror causing Lana to smile in return as she realized what shoes the bard was wearing. “So I guess I was right that you’d get to wear them some day.”

The other woman turned around beaming, kicking out her feet a bit to show off the pale blue satin shoes with their delicate heels. The golden lace and charms shaped like puppies perfectly described the sophisticated woman with the big heart. Not surprisingly Leli had a dress of the same colors as the shoes, including matching lace, and while there were no charms on the gown, there were delicate charms on her necklace and bracelet. “You said to keep them for a happier day. I could not imagine a better time, no?”

She twirled around a bit grinning, causing the full skirt to flare out around her, “Besides, it gave me the excuse to get a beautiful, new dress!”

Lana started to laugh, then paused when she felt all of the Wardens in Denerim gather outside. Instead of concern, crystal blue eyes twinkled with mischief, “Judging by your expression, I think your escort has arrived. Which means that - “

She was interrupted by a knock, then continued as she went to get the door revealing Fergus in the doorway, resplendent in brilliant, new silverite armor, head bare, but the family sword and shield at his back. Leli continued on smoothly, “Your brother is here right on time.”

Suddenly feeling a little awkward, Lana started to approach Fergus, but stopped at the look in his eyes. Knuckling away the mistiness in his eyes, he smiled and said a little hoarsely, “My little sister, all grown up and beautiful enough to outshine the sun.”

Lana flushed a little, not used to such a compliment from her brother.

The bard dipped a graceful curtsy, “My Lord. If you’ll excuse me?”

Fergus smiled at her a little bemusedly, “I’m pretty sure I told you there was no need for formality, Leliana, given your friendship with my little sister.”

Leli gave him an impish smile before slipping out of the room to give the two siblings a little time alone.

His smile turned into a smirk as he turned towards Lana, “Figures it’d take something like your own wedding to get you into a dress. Unlike with your groom’s coronation.”

Feeling back on an even keel with that comment, she playfully wrinkled her nose at him, “Unlike the coronation, this time I had the time to prepare myself for such a torture device.”

The two siblings laughed together, then Fergus held out his hand to his sister, who easily slipped her arm through his. As they walked down the halls, Lana realized that her brother kept casting odd looks her way. Since it was her brother, she figured she didn’t need to circle around to the matter, “All right, what is it this time?”

“This time what?” His green eyes sparkled with mischief, seeing that look lifted her heart even more. Even though she understood why, it had been hard to see her normally good humored brother to be so serious.

“You keep looking at me like you’ve never seen me before.”

He grinned, “It’s the jewelry. I didn’t think you owned that much.”

Lana looked down at the simple golden chains that flowed down in graceful tiers from her throat to the top of the bustline of the overdress, the movement causing the elegant sapphire drops to sway gently from her ears. She’d chosen not to wear any bracelets due to the sleeves of the underdress, and the only ring she visibly wore was the ring Alistair gave her when he proposed.  
Somewhat defensively she replied, “It’s not that much. I know there’ll be guests who will be wearing far more than this. In fact two of them helped me get ready.”

“For you, it is a lot. Where did you get it? I know those aren’t any of...mother’s pieces.”

Not ready to have that conversation just yet, she went for a different tact, “You know how the storage rooms and attics of Castle Cousland hold way too much stuff that no one wants to get rid of?”

He laughed, “Somehow I’m not surprised you went digging into the attics of the palace.”

She sighed dramatically, she fondly remembered some of her escapades in the attics as a child, “Unfortunately, they wouldn’t let me go digging. Instead some of the servants were loaded down with various odds and ends for me to look through in the comfort of my rooms.”

Fergus snickered at her expression, “They obviously don’t know you, sister dear.”

The smile he got in return promised that they’d learn. Then they were at the door to the courtyard where she could feel the Wardens waiting. Fergus stopped just before the door, turned to her and said, quietly and seriously, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Excuse me?” She couldn’t believe he was asking her this. Particularly at this time.

“I’m serious. It’s not too late if this wedding isn’t what you want.”

“Fergus...”, she trailed off not wanting to upset her brother, but really. “Alistair is the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. What I don’t want is to be Arless of Denerim, the Queen of Ferelden, or even Warden-Commander, but circumstances forced our hands.”

She held up her hand when it looked like he was about to something in reply, “Yet, I think I can do some good in all of those roles.”

His expression lightened, “I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. Now let’s get going so you aren’t late to your wedding and I earn Alistair’s wrath.”

“And not mine?”

“You, I know how to deal with. When Alistair gets angry, that’s scary.”

Both of them laughing at the thought of someone other than Lana scaring people when angry as they went out into the bright sunlight of a perfect autumn day.

Fergus led her to the carriage that was awaiting to transport them to the palace. That the ceremony was being held there caused some raised eyebrows, but the official reason was that while the Chantry in Denerim wasn’t big enough to accommodate the number of guests involved.

Unofficially, it was much like Alistair’s coronation, neither one wanted the Chantry to think it had too much power over either of them.

When they fully entered the courtyard, Lana stopped at the sight before her.

All of the Wardens in Denerim were present, wearing their formal armor (or robes in the case of the mages) of grey with dark blue, almost black, accents, topped by the surcoats proudly bearing the rampant white griffin outlined in that same dark blue. At their head stood an oddly formal Kendrick, Delindro at his side trying to surprise a grin. Kendrick crossed his arms over his chest and bowed deeply to her, “My Lady, if it would please you, we will be the escort on your trip to the ceremony.”

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she smiled warmly, “It pleases me very much to accept the very generous offer to be my escort.”

Casting a sideways look at Fergus proved that he had been a part of this plan. Given the reactions of her ladies, she already figured out they had a hand in it. All this care... it was almost too much. She didn’t have the words to express what this meant to her, but the smile on her face and the light in her eyes said everything she could possibly hope for. As Fergus helped her into the carriage, she saw a plainer one, where Rowena, Alfstanna, Leliana and Wynne were waiting. The four women smiled and waved as their carriage went off, giving the room needed for the Wardens to mount up on their horses.

She had to smile again, someone had managed to find enough grey horses to have alternating, matching pairs, of dark grey and light grey mounts. And she wondered just how much practice they had as they easily flowed around the carriage, their mounts prancing in response to the excitement of their riders.

As they made their stately procession through the streets of Denerim, crowds of citizens, many who had traveled a distance in the hopes of catching the glimpse of their Hero, gathered, cheering happily. Early autumn flowers, little charms for happiness, fertility and good health, as well as streamers with Chantry blessings fell in a light rain upon the procession.

Lana shook her head slightly in wonder while Fergus smiled at her. “Well little sister, that’s what happens when you go around saving people. Sometimes they’re actually grateful and want to cheer you on.”

“I know, it just amazes me since I never wanted their adulation. I was just doing what I saw as my duty.”

“And that is why they’re so eager to heap it on you.” He gave her a sly grin, “You said it’s a little late to change your mind about the marriage, and you’re right. I think there’d be a lot of people put out if you did that.”

She gaped at him, then snapped her mouth shut and mock glared at him. He laughed, “Oh that look, I’m glad to know I can still rile you up.”

“Hmph, and today is supposed to be a happy day.”

Fergus just smirked at her some more. She just shook her head, then laughed when she saw someone manage to toss a garland so that it landed on Delindro’s shoulders. Fergus joined her when he saw what set her off.

The crowds roared joyfully, they had gathered outside of the palace as well as the streets of the city, when they saw their Hero laughingly exit the carriage with her brother. It had been decided at the last moment for them to see her, rather than risk the near riots that almost occurred the day of the coronation when word spread that she was awake. 

So with the sounds of so many blessings and well wishing, she entered the palace beaming with her own joy.

Though the happiness faded when they approached the door of the chamber the ceremony was to take place. So many momentous events had taken place, few had been truly happy. Unaware of how serious her expression was, even though she feel Alistair nearby, and how happy he was caused Fergus to give her a measuring look.

Then the great doors slowly swung open causing the guests who had gathered to fall silent and the two began the slow walk down the aisle. Quietly, her brother said, “You know, Lana, it is okay to smile.”

She looked up at his smiling face and smiled back before returning her attention to the temporary altar setup on the dais before the throne where the Grand Cleric stood smiling. Then she felt Alistair’s happiness change to something so much brighter which drew her attention.

Later she would remember all of those who stood at the edges of the aisle, those who truly smiled and those who did so for politeness. Those who just barely refrained from glaring at her. But at that moment, none of them mattered. She was aware of only Alistair, who stood before the altar in his archdemon bone armor, lit up by the rays of the sun shining through the clerestory windows. A strangely shy smile on his lips, though his eyes were bright.

It was that moment she realized two things. The first was that the ceremony really was important to her, if only to say to the world “This is the man who is my best friend who I’m madly in love with. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with, no matter how short or long.” The second thing...why she needed someone to walk down the aisle with her. It wasn’t to “give her away”, it was the sheer fact that she was feeling so giddy from her excited happiness that she, who was known for her graceful movements, would’ve tripped over her own feet if she didn’t have her brother’s hand to steady her.

The bride and groom had eyes only for each other as Alistair took her hand in his in silent greetings for a brief moment as Fergus guided her into place before stepping to the side and back of her. Opposite from where her brother stood was Teagan in the role of Alistair’s family. For a moment Alistair looked away and over her head to Fergus. She didn’t have to turn and look to know that Fergus smiled warmly, if a trifle mistily, and nodded his final approval.

Reluctantly letting Lana’s hand go, the two turned towards the altar and the Grand Cleric who briefly raised her hands in blessing before beginning the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today in celebration of the joining of Alistair Thierin and Marlana Cousland. There are many things to say about marriage, so much wisdom concerning the joining together of two souls.Though we are unable to give all of this wisdom to these two who stand before us, we can hope to leave with the knowledge of love and its strengths. The anticipation of the knowledge and wisdom that comes with time. The law of life is love unto all beings for without love, life is nothing, without love, death has no redemption.

If we learn no more in life, let it be this:

Marriage is a bond to be entered into only after considerable thought and reflection. As with any aspect of life, it has its cycles. The ups and downs, trials and triumphs. With full understanding of this, Marlana and Alistair have come here today to be joined as one in marriage. Others would ask, at this time, who gives the bridge in marriage. But given the woman before us, she is not property to be bought and sold, given and taken.”

Though no one laughed, all gathered smiled broadly. Marlana Cousland had proven that she was her own person and it was well known that was one of the many reasons why Alistair fell for her.

Her Grace continued, her voice serious but with a suspicious twinkle in her eyes, “So I simply ask if she comes of her own will and if she has her family’s blessing.

Marlana, is it true that you have come of your own free will and accord?”

Smiling, Marlana said in her sweet, clear voice, projecting her words so that all could hear, “Yes, it is true.”

“With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?”

Fergus stepped forward, “She comes with me, her brother, and accompanied by all of her family’s blessings.”

As the Grand Cleric turned towards Alistair, Fergus stepped back, smiling broadly. “And do you, Alistair, come of your own free will and accord?”

His smile broadened if it was possible, but his voice was steady and serious as he spoke, “Yes, it is true.”

“And with whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?”

Teagan stepped forward, “He comes with me, his uncle by choice, and he is accompanied by all of his family’s blessings.”

“Then please join hands and listen to that which I am about to say. Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time doth pass, remember this:

Your love should be firm like the stone beneath your feet, like a star your love should be constant. Let the powers of the mind and the intellect guide you in your marriage. Let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be close, but not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come. Yet the storms always pass.

Be free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease, for the Maker is with you always.”

“Alistair, I have not the right to bind thee to Marlana, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring upon her hand.”

Eyes alight with love and joy, Alistair slid the wedding ring he had fashioned to match the ring of betrothal on Marlana’s left ring finger. The ring caught the sunlight in just the right manner for it to seemingly turn into a blaze of argent and sapphire flames as it settled into place.

His voice was somewhat husky as he said, “I, Alistair Thierin, in the name of the Maker and his bride Andraste, by the life that courses in my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, Marlana Cousland, to my hand, my heart and my spirit, to be my chosen wife. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and to be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty. I shall not to seek to change thee in any way, for that would demean my love for you as the person you are.”

“Marlana, if it be your wish for Alistair to be bound to you, place the ring on his finger.”

Sapphire eyes seemed to outshine the ring newly placed on her hand as she slid the deceptively plain gold ring upon Alistair’s hand, it didn’t blaze as hers had, but for a moment it looked as if she had somehow fashioned a ring of sunlight instead of gold.

Her voice too had taken a slight hoarseness as she spoke, “I, Marlana Cousland, in the name of the Maker and his bride, Andraste, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, Alistair Thierin, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen husband. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty. I shall not seek to change thee in any way, for that would demean my love for you as the person you are.”

The vows had been easy for them to come up with and say. After all hadn’t they lived through some of the worst times together? Some might have expected for their relationship to fall apart without the pressures of the Blight and civil war. But it was the relatively peaceful time afterwards that cemented their bonds, since they could take the time to simply be with each other. In those quiet, private, moments, they found they liked and loved one another more than they had believed possible.

Smiling almost as broadly as the newlywed couple, the cleric raised her hands in blessing, “And so by the Maker’s grace, I do name you husband and wife. May your love so endure that its flame remain a guiding light unto you.”

Not needing any prompting, Alistair took Marlana into his arms and the two kissed long and deep to seal their pledge.

Those gathered cheered loudly. Oddly enough the one who cheered the most gustily was Shale, stony fists held high in the air as if the greatest victory had been won.

Reluctantly the two finally parted, Alistair held up his right hand to their guests since he still held her right hand in his left, “My fellow Fereldens, I present to you my wife, and your Queen, Marlana Cousland-Thierin.”

As she breathlessly, and smiling as brightly as her new husband, Marlana raised her left hand in greetings. She never had a chance to say anything as the crowd, forgetting their dignity, cheered wildly enough to match Shale’s enthusiasm.

Much later, once the official receiving line was done and the main toasts had been said, the two slowly danced together, smiling into each other’s eyes, for once uncaring about those who watched them. And what those watchers had to say. Even though Lana didn’t entirely let down her guard, she wasn’t trying to keep an eye on any she thought might have ulterior motives. It was their wedding day and she didn’t want to ruin it.

Even their enemies, either together or individually, weren’t plotting that day, magnanimously giving them a happy day. After all, it fit into their plans. A young man grieving over the loss of his much beloved wife was at his most vulnerable. So they hid behind their masks of well wishing the newlyweds and silently made plans.

By unspoken consent, they were alone on the dance floor for that first, important and sweet dance. Despite her jokes about his ability to dance, she was in no danger of of injury to her feet from Alistair. Part of it was that after the ceremony he had changed out of his armor and into a long sleeved, silk shirt the color of dark honey, soft leather trousers dyed a couple shades darker than the shirt and were tucked into boots made of the same soft leather. It also helped that he had taken a little time to practice his dancing for this day.

They made quite a sight together, the King that was already being referred to as “The Golden”, not just because of his looks, but his good nature, and his Silver Queen. So called mainly because of her looks, but also for the fact many saw her as containing the purifying quality that myth and legend attached to that metal.

Pitching his voice so that only she could hear, Alistair said, “There’s something I’ve decided wanted you to know.”

“And what would that be?”

“I will always love you. Not just in this life, not just after either. Any life.”

She gave him a soft, warm smile, “And I will always love you. In this life or any other. In this world or any other.”

He echoed her smile, “Always then.”

“Always.”

They kissed as they finished their true vows and their dance. Their guests applauded them, not knowing what they had witnessed.


End file.
